Operation Forseti
by Cpt.ShaneSchofield
Summary: With a long forgotten enemy from her past resurfacing in the wake of the Collector threat, Miranda Lawson must delve deep into the story of her past in order to ensure the future of humanity.
1. Getholk

_Prologue; Session One._

Fireworks burst into miniature stars high in the air above Caltenth. X-ZAT Fighter Squadrons swooped through the air; their wing-mounted cannons firing dummy rounds into night-sky. They were old weapons, having been long since decommissioned. An outdated weapon on an outdated ship, relegated to flying air shows and tribute festivals in order to impress children and misty-eyed war veterans.

Along the crowded, narrow streets children and parents alike watched through various eyes and extra-sensory systems as the celebration begun. Streamers of soft fabrics and holographic displays of light shot upward into the air as the crowd began to come alive, dancing and crashing together in a furious fever pitch.

The woman in white; perched atop a slanted, sheet-iron roof a mile away, watched it all through the fish-eyed lens of her sniper rifle.

The ear-piece embedded inside her right ear crackled to life, a disembodied voice whispered to her, "Team One is moving into position."

She swung her rifle back across the city, lazily tracing out three distant figures with the scope's crosshairs. They wore all-black fatigues, military style, though they belonged to no military unit. Slung across their chest were all manner of weapons; rifles and shotguns and each carried a pistol in a thigh-holster.

"Confirmed, Team One," The woman said, her voice low and emotionless. She brought her hand away from the trigger-guard of her rifle and keyed a command into the holo-visor that stretched across her face.

Three small orange symbols appeared in her heads up display; each one hanging above the head of a member of Team One. Numbers appeared next to the symbols; marking the distance and heart rate of each of the mercenaries.

"Proceed as planned," The woman ordered, "I've got you marked."

Team One moved across the low roofs of the shanty-town, their guns raised to shoulder height. They ran full pace, in perfect unison. Their arms bringing their guns about in quick, sharp arcs; covering every direction with the barrels of their weapons.

Each step of their combat boots shook the sheet-iron beneath them, sending the rainwater and specks of rusted metal that had collected there down to the ground below. Each step took them deeper into the shanty-town, where the sounds of celebration and merry-making gave way to distant gunfire and harsh screams. Each step took them closer and closer to their target.

The Spire.

* * *

"Was this the first time you killed?" Kelly asked, her fingers dancing across a holographic keyboard.

"The first time? No," Miranda rolled her shoulders and pressed her back deeper into the couch, she tilted her head backwards over the arm rest, trying to get a look at the young psychiatrist from her position on her back.

"The first time you felt regret, then?" Kelly clarified, finishing her work and turning back to her patient.

"No," Miranda's eyes closed and she rubbed her temple with her hand, "Karnak's men were fanatics. They were dangerous."

"Collateral damage then? Did someone get hit you didn't intend to?"

"I don't miss, Kelly," Miranda said, her voice taking a hard edge, "I'm not clumsy enough to hit a civilian."

"You're not making this very easy, Operative Lawson," Kelly said, standing gently and resting her hands on the back of the couch Miranda lay on.

"You know how the mission went, you've read my file; no accidents," Miranda said, sitting up suddenly and locking eyes with the former-Cerberus psychiatrist.

"I haven't actually," Kelly said, shrugging and taking a step back, "When did this operation take place? Before Jath'Amon's conspiracy and the mission with Operative Taylor?"

"Why haven't you read my file? They were declassified by EDI after we destroyed the Collector station," Miranda frowned and then sighed, "Unless you have read my file and you already know the answers to all your questions. You're trying to ease me into the role of a patient by getting me to answer questions, easy questions."

"Very impressive, Miranda," Kelly folded her arms and gave a slight grunt, "Exactly right."

Miranda paused for a second, deep in thought, scrutinizing the younger woman, "But you knew I'd figure that out, so you're trying to flatter me to appeal to my ego."

Kelly rolled her eyes slightly, but didn't say anything.

"It wasn't regret," Miranda said suddenly, sliding back down onto the couch, "No, not regret. But maybe something of a realization."

"Such as?"

"I realized that among all the things I was great at, I was _excellent _at killing."

* * *

Her crosshair hovered over the sentry's face for a second, then she squeezed the trigger. The sentry's slick black visor exploded through the back of its skull; taking most of the Batarian thug's face with it.

She swung around and lined up her next shot in a heartbeat. The second round burnt a neat hole through the throat of a second thug, sending him backwards out of the tower overlooking the main gate.

The Spire itself; a twisted, rusted thatch of metal towers and reinforced windows stretched high above in the background, overlooking the huts and shanty buildings that surrounded it on all sides. Her scope danced across it for a second, searching for other targets.

"Your clear, Team One, hit the gate."

The three orange markers on her visor blinked once. Then a gout of fire blossomed upward from Team One's position.

"Gate clear," Team One radioed in, a stutter of gunfire interrupted the transmission, "Outer guards eliminated."

Her rifle fell slack against her shoulder, her hand moved down to her chest and pulled a small black box free from her webbing. Her finger hovered over the button set in its face for a fraction of a second.

Then pressed down. Hard.

* * *

"Explosives?" Kelly asked, cocking a quizzical eyebrow.

"Yes," Miranda nodded, "Getholk was a lieutenant in Karnak's operation, he was in charge of security and regularly co-ordinated Karnak's movements from his office at the top floor of the Spire. He was elusive and secretive. But arrogant, too. We sent in a team of mercs first, had them breach the gate, then as soon as they entered I detonated some concealed charges. Hidden inside their armour."

"Messy," Kelly's face contorted into a disgusted grimace.

"Necessary," Miranda shrugged her shoulders, "There was no other way. Getholk would only ever let his guard down immediately after an attack had been thwarted. So I had to engineer a failed one. The explosion ensured he would relax, at least momentarily."

"He wouldn't suspect anything strange about a group of spontaneously combusting soldiers storming his home?" Kelly asked.

"Of course, but not straight away, enough time to get inside at least."

"How?" Kelly leant forward in her seat.

"By getting myself captured of course," Miranda sighed.

* * *

The fist caught her in the jaw and sent her to the ground; starlight danced across her vision.

"Assassin!" A rough, alien voice barked at her.

She coughed. Blood splattered down across her chest and mingled with the mud that had collected there.

"Yeah, yeah," Miranda murmured through the blood congealing in her mouth.

A steel-capped boot swung forward and slammed into her ribs. She felt one of them crack. Definitely broken. The force of the kick rolled her onto her back; her bound hands pressed into the curve of her spine.

"Your plan has failed!" The Batarian spat at her, she rolled out of the way and kicked with both of her legs. The alien hopped over the blow and gave a short, guttural laugh before he dropped to a knee next to her and drove his fist into her broken rib.

She cried out; halfway between a gasp and a hiss. Pain shot up the right side of her body.

"Not quite," She said quietly, rolling onto her front and getting up onto her knees, though not without some difficulty.

The Batarian gave a grunt of confusion, his next punch stopped mid-swing, "What?"

She didn't answer, instead she glanced around the room they were in. She'd been blindfolded when they brought her in and she still wasn't sure what floor of the Spire they were on.

The walls were a hazardous mash of metal and other scavenged materials. But that didn't hold her attention. The Batarian in the corner, however, did.

He was round and portly, for a Batarian, at least. His four eyes were half-closed. A long black cloak hung over one of his shoulders; a large, long-barrelled pistol hung in a mag-holster on his armoured chest.

"Getholk, I presume?" Miranda asked quietly, squinting through one blackened eye.

The Batarian nodded, then gestured to the guard standing either side of him with his hand, "Aim."

They raised their own weapons at her; stubby, rusted sub-machine guns that looked like they would rather be in a museum. She stared down the twin-barrels, a grim smile dawning on her face. The Batarian to her right, who had been beating her just moments before stepped forward, his hand dropping to the holster at his side.

Getholk stepped forward, satisfied that his safety was ensured, "What is your purpose here."

"Well," Miranda swallowed loudly, choking back another mouthful of blood, "I was sent here to kill you, after I extracted the current location of your boss."

Getholk laughed, his rancid breath filling Miranda's nostrils. He leant in closer, spittle dripping from between his thin lips, "I am not impressed."

Miranda shrugged, "I'm sorry to let you down."

The Batarian blinked his top set of eyes, "Not funny."

Miranda spat blood; the thick, dark substance coating the Batarian's lower eyes, "You're right. It's not."

Getholk stepped back, his hand moving to the pistol slung across his chest.

"Houdini," Miranda whispered, pressing the palm of her hand against the handcuffs that bound her wrists behind her back.

What happened next, happened very fast. The code-word activated a micro-sized shaped explosive charge that had been surgically implanted under the skin of her palm. The pain was horrific; like a red-hot steel rod being thrust through her hand, but not insurmountable. The smell of burnt flesh filled the room; the destroyed handcuffs dangled limply from her wrist.

She leapt forward, propelling herself up with her legs. Her left, undamaged hand snaked forward and caught Getholk's hand by the wrist a second before it reached his pistol. She broke his wrist in three places with a single twist of her own.

She pulled his pistol free from the chest-holster and brought it to bear on her 'interrogator' standing to her right. In the blink of an eye she put two rounds through the bridge of his nose; at the same time her left arm, ruined, bloodied hand and all, seized Getholk by the neck and spun him around, placing his considerable girth in between her and his two armed guards.

The pistol boomed again. The two guards crumpled to the floor; exit wounds tearing open and sending blood spatters across the wall behind them.

Miranda kicked the Batarian in the back of his knee, he dropped to the floor on all fours. She brought the pistol up and pressed the muzzle against the back of his head. Hard.

"My men are already on their way up the Spire," Getholk hissed from between his clenched teeth, "They will have already heard the shots. You will not get away with this."

"Now that," Miranda gave a short, dry laugh, "_That_ is funny."

She squeezed the trigger.

* * *

"At that range it must have been..." Kelly clicked her tongue against her teeth, searching for the right word.

"Messy?" Miranda asked, running a hand through her hair, "You bet. That close? With the muzzle against the flesh? Shields didn't work. Damn near destroyed his head."

Kelly gave a short shudder of revulsion, "Is that what's troubling you?"

Miranda gave a short, sardonic snort, "No."

Kelly threw her hands up in a gesture of surrender, defeated, "So what brought you here?"

"Besides my first cold kill?" Miranda asked, sitting up suddenly, "Nothing."

"'Cold kill'?" Kelly asked, her brow furrowing in concentration.

"A kill in cold blood, Getholk was my first."

"It didn't seem to trouble you at the time," Kelly said pointedly.

"It didn't," Miranda rubbed the palm of her hand subconsciously.

"But now?" Kelly asked, easing back into her chair.

"Not now either," Miranda hissed, frustration filling her voice, "The Getholk op wasn't the problem."

"What was?"

"Chisholm, of course."

* * *

The last of Getholk's men danced and jerked as he was torn apart by rapid gunfire.

The Cerberus soldier dropped to a knee and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He tapped a single finger against his ear-piece, "The Spire is clear. All targets neutralized."

Thirty floors above, standing in the middle of Getholk's office, Miranda gave a nod to the empty room, "Understood. Prep the gunship and get ready for extraction."

She checked her omni-tool. The encryption on Getholk's data-files had been child's play to crack. The thousands of files were arrayed before her, scrolling by super fast. She tapped in commands; searching for anything that contained Karnak's name.

The search came back seconds later; over three thousand files.

She sighed, "Excellent."

Behind her, the black and orange angular shaped gunship swooped in and held its position a metre from the window of Getholk's office.

"Opening side door," The pilot's voice came through her earpiece, loud and clear.

Miranda stepped forward, pressing Getholk's pistol up into the corner of the window. She fired, shielding her eyes with her free hand. The window shattered, air rushed in. She hopped across the small gap to the open bay of the gunship. Inside a squad of four men, Cerberus soldiers who had secured the Spire moments ago, sat in reinforced seats.

The soldier nearest to the door ran a hand through his tightly cropped black hair and let out a relieved sigh, "Did we get it, ma'am?"

"I think so, Curtz," Miranda nodded, gesturing to her omni-tool.

Curtz' eyes widened in surprise as he spotted Miranda's bloodied hand, "That looks bad, let me get the medi-gel."

Miranda gently flexed her half blown apart hand, her eyes locked onto the small round hole burnt into her palm, "Fine. Make it quick. I need to get these reports back to the Illusive Man ASAP."

"Of course," Curtz said, pressing the injector against her palm.

His eyes glinted in the amber interior lighting of the aircraft, "How did Getholk die, then?"

Miranda looked up, staring at the soldier through half-lidded, heavily bruised eyes. The gunship began to pull away from the Spire, the wind howled past as the pilot pulled it into a pin-point turn and activated the ship's thrusters. She slid Getholk's pistol from her belt and tossed it out the bay door.

"Fittingly," Miranda said quietly, then hit the door button.

* * *

"What did the files tell you?" Kelly asked, tenting her fingers in front of her face absentmindedly.

"You already know," Miranda looked back at her briefly, "And stop that. You look ridiculous."

Kelly let her hands drop to her sides, "Operative Lawson, please..."

'Right, right," Miranda sighed and rolled her eyes back into her head, a curse dying on her tongue, "The information told us that Karnak would be meeting with several other Batarian extremists. Discussing weapons trade and an alleged plan to strike at the Alliance."

"Alleged?" Kelly asked, confused.

"The files were incomplete," Miranda explained, "They didn't belong to Getholk or anyone in Karnak's organization. They were intelligence reports from S.T.G. fact finding operations, Alliance investigations, etc. etc."

"Not Getholk's personal files, then?" Kelly asked, chewing on the end of her pen.

"Oh they were," Miranda sat up, stretching her arms high and yawning, "One of the reasons why Getholk was such a good head of security was because of his contacts in legitimate Citadel space. He could get information about people moving against Karnak before any actual operation had begun. That way, he could feed mis-information back to them and get Karnak to safety."

"Clever."

"Not clever enough," Miranda gave a wry smile, "But yes, I suppose, if I hadn't killed him he likely could have kept Karnak protected for a very long time."

"But you did kill him," Kelly said, her eyes dropping to the floor.

Miranda's smile widened, "Is that a question or a statement, Ms. Chambers?"

"Both, I suppose," Kelly shrugged.

"Yes," Miranda said after a pause, 'I killed him, and no, I didn't feel bad about it either."

"Alright," Kelly sighed, "So what happened at Chisholm?"

Miranda laughed, then stood up slowly, "Maybe tomorrow, Kelly. This session has gone on long enough."

"And read my file closer, Kelly," Miranda said as she headed for the door, "Chisholm wasn't a place, not really. It was a space station."

* * *

**End Session One.**


	2. Chisholm

_Session Two; Chisholm_

"Tell me again about Curtz," Kelly asked, a faint smile playing across her features.

"Curtz?" Miranda asked, a hint of confusion appearing her voice, "Why?"

"He's the only soldier you named," Kelly tapped a thoughtful finger against her chin, "You obviously considered him more than just another shock-trooper."

"He was the only Cerberus operative I worked with more than once," Miranda said, a hint of annoyance in her voice, "Except Jacob, of course."

Kelly nodded, "Understandable."

"You sound unsure, Kelly. Are you sure you haven't been spending too much time with Garrus and Gardner? I hear they've devised an incredibly detailed theory about how my emotionless exterior is simply a result of my cold, robot interior," Miranda let out a soft laugh, clapping her hands together derisively.

"That's not what I meant, Miranda," Kelly said, rubbing her hand across her eyes in frustration, "I was simply surprised, given the details of what happened with him..."

"What?" Miranda asked, her eyes whipping around and pinning Kelly to her chair, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kelly paused, deep in thought, then said shakily, "I expected you to distance yourself from the incident, maybe attempt to justify or deny your involvement."

Miranda sighed, "I probably would have before all this."

"All 'this'?" Kelly furrowed her brow, "You mean the situation with the Collectors?"

"Yes," Miranda said forcefully, then added a second later, "And Shepard."

"You think Commander Shepard has changed your outlook?"

"Absolutely," Miranda nodded, a little too energetically, "I mean, even beyond the conversations we've had; her actions have proven me wrong time and time again."

"How so?" Kelly asked, leaning forward in her chair and setting aside her data-slate.

"The Illusive Man taught me that the only way to protect humanities interests was to put them first," Miranda leaned back, her mouth tightening into an ugly shape, "Every day Shepard teaches me more and more about how wrong he was. She doesn't even think, doesn't hesitate and never compromises. I've seen so many situations where Cerberus would have had no qualms about trading one life for another; or both for some other outcome."

"And Shepard?" Kelly asked, stroking her chin.

"If there's a way she can save everyone, she'll do it. Even if there isn't, she'll still try," Miranda smiled, then shook her head too, "I sound like an idealist; someone who's been reading too many novels, but that's how Shepard makes everyone feel, I suppose. She's like something out of one of Homer's epics; even if she knows she can't win, she fights like she believes she can."

"You're comparing the Commander to Achilles?" Kelly snorted and cocked her head to the side, "An odd comparison, but I can see the logic."

"No, I was thinking of Hector, actually."

Kelly nodded, "We're getting off topic. At the end of our last session you made a reference to Chisholm, about the station itself. Would you care to tell me the story?"

"Have you read that section of my file completely, yet?"

"No," Kelly sighed, "There was disturbance I had to take care of last night, Donnelly was nearly killed."

"An accident?" Miranda asked, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"No," Kelly sighed again and this time she didn't just sound stressed, she looked it too, "Jack pulled a pistol on him."

"Lasting damage?"

"No, she was drunk, she put a bullet clean through the window overlooking the docking bay. Nearly hit Grunt," Kelly's head tilted back to look at the ceiling, "You can guess how that would be a problem. Anyway, Chisholm?"

Miranda relaxed a little, settling back into the couch, "Chisholm was meant to be the final stage of Operation Forseti."

"Forseti?" Kelly interrupted, "I know that phrase..."

"Norse mythology," Miranda explained quickly, "A representation of justice, or an adjudicator of sorts. The Illusive Man picked the name because the Operation was supposed to culminate in the assassination of Karnak."

"And Karnak's crime?" Kelly asked, although she already knew the answer.

"I'll get to that," Miranda deflected the question, waving with her hand.

"Very well."

"With the information gained from Getholk we were able to identify Karnak's next location," Miranda activated her omni-tool and brought up a holographic display.

A 3-d wireframe diagram of a y-shaped structure appeared in the air. At the centre of the 'y' shaped spars a large, round centre was situated. Shaped like a yo-yo, the round room at the space station's structure glowed a faint orange in the dim lights of Kelly's office.

"This is Chisholm," Miranda pointed out the centre room, "Here's the conference stage; a multi-floor room designed to accommodate parties, gatherings and other interstellar social events."

"Doesn't exactly sound like your typical bad guy's hide-out," Kelly smiled.

"It wasn't," Miranda smiled too, but unhappily, "It was an Asari structure, belonging to some billionaire socialite who wanted to trek across the stars, partying the whole way."

"It didn't work out, I take it?" Kelly asked dryly.

"No, they were killed by Hanar religious extremists shortly after they left Illium," Miranda nodded slowly, purposefully, "The station was decommissioned; set to be destroyed. Apparently Karnak got his hands on it."

"And?"

"And turned it into his own party station," Miranda's grimace broadened slightly, almost turning into a genuine smile, "Genuinely, too. He kept it pretty much the same, just fortified the entrances and exits."

She gestured to the top-right spar, "This one used to be an alcohol fermentation area, I think. He kept it the same. The left spar he turned into a guard room, complete with all kinds of weaponry and a fully functional armoury."

"And the bottom spar?"

"His personal quarters and those of his guests," Miranda shrugged, "The central area, with the entertainment rooms, the stage and the, uh, strip club."

"Strip club?" Kelly asked, bewildered.

"Oh yes, filled to the brim with Asari, Salarian and Batarian dancers; very skilled I hear," Miranda laughed softly, "Karnak used the station as a meet and greet location, there he invited all kinds of sympathizers and eccentrics, in an attempt to curry their favour. He had to gain funding from somewhere, the best place was the anti-human radicals that populated the inner areas of the Terminus systems."

"And he, what, held parties there?" Kelly asked, confused.

"Absolutely. Bloody good ones too, from what I saw," Miranda laughed again, louder this time, "Karnak wasn't a religious extremist, Kelly, he enjoyed parties and alcohol and any other pleasure he could acquire. He was charismatic too, a born leader from what I understand. Fast tracked for political service on the world he came from."

"So," Kelly said slowly, savouring the word, "The party provided an opportunity; you could eliminate not only Karnak but a large number of his supporters and members of the anti-human powerbase in the Terminus systems."

Miranda gave a crooked smile, "You're becoming a realist, Kelly. The Illusive Man's thoughts exactly."

"So how did you get in?" Kelly asked, frowning slightly, amused.

"I didn't, not at first."

* * *

The dance-floor throbbed gently underneath Alteia's feet. It pounded and throbbed in perfect synch with the music that blasted down from overhead. She felt hands brush against her hips, then a pair of wet lips press against the nape of her neck. She pulled away, pressing further into the throng of the writhing crowd.

It was too early to be discovered just yet, and she was sure the pistol strapped to her thigh; under the tight, slick material of her latex dress. It was a compact model, designed to fold away into a slim, discrete square shape when not in immediate use. Even though she'd checked and re-checked her outline in the dress in front of a mirror for three hours before entering the station she still didn't feel entirely comfortable.

Bodies pressed against her from all directions; swinging hips and arms battered her and spun her around in all directions. It was difficult, but she finally managed to push through the crowd and come out the other side alive. A bar stretched across the entire east side of the room; a slim Batarian woman was serving drinks from behind it.

Alteia stepped and signalled her with a nod, "Got anything non-alcoholic, by any chance?"

The bartender's only answer was a short, gruff laugh.

"Figured," Alteia said quietly, turning away.

She headed for the women's bathroom and rubbed the back of her neck gently as the entrance slid open to let her through. She stepped inside, glanced along the wall where the sinks and mirrors were situated and then stepped into a cubicle and locked it shut.

She tapped a single finger to the miniature ear-piece located in her left ear, "Lawson, you read?"

The voice came back, clear and without static, "I'm here, Alteia, what have you got?"

"Nothing yet," Alteia whispered, wary of being overheard, "Karnak hasn't shown up, got a glimpse of Arctys on one of the upper balconies on the floor above me. I'm assuming that's where he's located."

Alteia could hear Miranda's approval as her voice filtered back through the earpiece, "Karnak wouldn't stray far from his bodyguard, try and follow him if you can. If you can't head to the conference floor; according to the schedule Karnak should be addressing his guests there in about an hour."

"You got it, Miranda," Alteia nodded to herself and gave the gun at her side a reassuring pat, "If I see Karnak?"

"Hold fire, radio it in," Miranda responded curtly, "We'll hit the guard's quarters as soon as you give us visual confirmation."

"Got it," Alteia responded with a wearied sigh, "Spend thirty years in the militia, sixty as a mercenary for hire and I end up being given the task of talking into a microphone and looking at things."

"I can still hear you, you know," Miranda's voice barked in her ear.

"Oh," Alteia stood, cracked her neck with a twist of her head and then unlocked the cubicle, "Time to get to work, then."

* * *

"Alteia? She didn't appear in your file," Kelly's eyes were locked onto her computer screen, frowning slightly.

"No," Miranda said quietly, "She wouldn't."

"Care to explain?" Kelly asked, turning back to her patient.

"Not particularly," Miranda shook her head and shrugged.

"Okay," Kelly sighed, "What was her role?"

"She was an expert in infiltration," Miranda explained, "And an alien. Karnak wouldn't let a human aboard his station, no way in hell."

"Because of the Batarian-Alliance conflict?" Kelly asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

"Yes and no," Miranda said, "For him it was more personal. We'll come back to that later, if you want."

"Sure," Kelly nodded, then noted, "Cerberus doesn't usually work with aliens."

"Exigent circumstances, Alteia was trustworthy and she'd work for cheap."

"Why's that?"

"There was a matriarch aboard the station, one of Karnak's supporters," Miranda yawned loudly, "A violent radical; didn't like humans, didn't like the fact that Alteia stopped an attack on a human colony even more. She killed some of Alteia's friends in retaliation, political figures mostly. Targets who'd send a message to everyone, not just Alteia."

"Not a fan of humanity? That's unusual for an Asari," Kelly scratched at her temple absentmindedly.

"Not a fan of humanities aggressive expansion, or the favour humanity was gaining with the council," Miranda sighed and clicked her tongue, "Politics, as always."

"Fair enough."

"Not really."

"Hmph. This other figure you mentioned, this 'Arctys'? Karnak's bodyguard, you said?" Kelly looked up at Miranda through questioning eyes.

"Yes," Miranda tapped a finger against her thigh and bit her lip, "Tough nut to crack; tougher to kill."

"Who was he?"

"Not much known about him, a Turian. Part of some sort of Turian 'super-soldier' program that took place a few years before Operation Forseti," Miranda ran a finger along her thigh, stopping just short of her waist, "He was imprisoned; murder, I think, or rape maybe, I don't remember. Anyway, he broke out in transit. Killed a unit of decorated Turian soldiers and fled to the Terminus systems, there he got a job offer. Work for Karnak as an enforcer; made his way up the ranks quickly, of course. He had a talent for killing."

Kelly nodded, then stood up and stepped around her desk; leaning back and putting her weight on the edge, "So what happened next?"

* * *

Curtz' face was glued to the gun that hovered in front of him; even through the thick space-suits they both wore Miranda could see the hunched shoulders, the tensed muscles and the concentration marred face that showed just how on edge the soldiers really was.

She placed a hand on his shoulder; a clumsy, imprecise gesture that nearly knocked him over.

"Thanks," He said quietly, understanding the meaning despite the space-suit induced clumsiness that undermined the action.

Miranda nodded, then gently pushed away from him and floated through the ship to the cockpit. Everything was powered down, nav-readouts, control screens, communications consoles. Even the air-circulation and life-support systems had been shut down; hence the need for the suits.

A ship as small as the fighter jet they currently occupied had no need for anti-grav systems, a fact that Miranda detested. She hated the lack of gravity; hated everything about the weightlessness and clumsiness of what had always before been precise, calculated movements.

The lack of power kept them off Karnak's radars, but any party-goer who looked out the window could see them, hence why they'd hung the ship in orbit between the station and the nearby star; Karakhtar, the light and heat would keep them hidden for a little while, but soon they'd drift out of its circumference and be easily spotted.

"Anything?" Miranda spoke into her comm. bead.

Alteia's voice came back to her, oddly quiet, "Nothing yet, but it looks like people are starting to head upstairs. Maybe the speech is starting early."

Miranda swore under her breath, "Alright, keep us informed."

"Operative Lawson," Curtz' voice came through her radio, "We're going to be visible to the naked eye soon; we need to hurry."

She turned to him. His hands were a blur as he dismantled and re-assembled his rifle in a matter of seconds. His hands showed none of the clumsiness Miranda's had, "I know, but we can't move until Karnak's presence is confirmed. Just be patient."

"We try and cut and run and they'll blow us to pieces," Curtz' warned, his voice tinged with worry.

"I don't plan on that happening," Miranda said, her voice steady.

"Murphy's Law, ma'am," Curtz' said quietly and knocked his rifle aside, it floated end over end and then smacked against the back end of the ship.

"Reassuring," Miranda said, then moved back into the cockpit.

* * *

"You were close?" Kelly asked.

"Only professionally," Miranda said with a smile.

"Ah, I see," Kelly folded her arms across her chest and turned her head upward; thinking carefully about her next words, "He seems talented from the way you describe him."

"Seemed," Miranda corrected with a nod, "And yes, very talented."

"Care to elaborate?" Kelly asked, throwing her hands up.

"No."

"...alright then."

* * *

The call came through, Alteia's voice sounded faster than normal; not panicked, but excited. Or expectant. Miranda couldn't quite tell.

"He's here. Karnak's on the stage and he's started talking."

Miranda began powering the ship up, her hands danced across the controls; even though they were wrapped in the hefty gloves of the suit. Annoyances and worries fell away as practiced, calm intuition and skill took over. Her body worked on auto-pilot; flipping switches and pressing buttons with ease.

Curtz' appeared next to her, his Avenger rifle clutched in his right hand.

"Bring the guns online," Miranda hissed over the comm. link they shared.

Curtz nodded as best he could inside his suit, "Yes, ma'am."

There was a deep throb that rattled through the ship as the hull-mounted cannons cycled around and powered up.

"Guns powered," Curtz announced, "Ready to fire. Activating targeting systems."

"Incoming!" Miranda barked, sliding her hands across the control console and sending the ship into a tight, controlled spiral.

Light flashed toward them; twin-linked barrels attached to the guard's section of the station swung to and fro and stitched red-hot cannon fire into the dark space around them. Miranda jerked the ship around; dancing through the storm of light.

"Fire!" Miranda ordered, gasping the word out as a round cut across the forward viewing port and glanced off the ship's kinetic barriers.

"Targeting," Curtz said, his voice steady and even.

Another shot impacted against their shields, rocking the ship from side to side and sending them into a spiral that would have torn them to pieces had they been inside a planet's atmosphere.

They came back up with fire flashing from the ship's guns, at such close range it was nigh impossible to miss. The first shot tore through the guard's quarters themselves, even as the resultant fireball tore apart the upper section of the spar Miranda could swear she saw flailing bodies as well as shards of metal spinning out into space.

She pulled the ship hard to starboard, swinging around a piece of the station that was twice the size of their fighter. Curtz fired again. His second shot hit the armoury, or at least where it had been on the floor layout they'd intercepted. Explosives detonated explosives as the stockpile of weaponry tore itself apart. That entire section of the station disintegrated in a micro-second. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the explosion that had consumed the guard's spar died.

Miranda uttered a sigh of relief and pulled the ship downward; heading for the blown open remains of the guard's section; where it joined with the centre of the station.

"You ready?" Curtz asked her.

"Always."

* * *

"Bold plan," Kelly said, admiringly.

"We decided it was the best option for a quick infiltration," Miranda said firmly, "We'd thought of every kind of subtlety we knew, but none of them would have worked. The only way to breach Karnak's defences was to blow them apart."

"Like I said," Kelly smiled, "Bold."

"Yes," Miranda agreed, "But it was risky. If I had made a single miscalculation during our assault I would have crashed the ship into a piece of the station, or been hit by cannon flak. And once we got inside we were facing an army, even though we'd probably halved the number of guards on the station with our initial salvo."

"Yes, your report mentioned the surprisingly high number of soldiers Karnak had stationed there," Kelly nodded, then moved back over to her computer and read something of the screen, "Over a hundred, if this is to be believed."

Miranda nodded, a grim look on her face, "Yes and that was after we blew up the guard's section. We were lucky that some of them were trapped in the other sections; it seems the explosion activated some sort of safety system that locked off every part of the station."

"But still, you took on a lot of infantry."

"Yeah," Miranda nodded slowly, pensive, "But it wasn't enough."

"Do you blame yourself for how the mission ended?" Kelly asked, looking Miranda in the eye.

"Yes," Miranda nodded, her head hanging down briefly, "But I blame Karnak and every other bastard on that station more."

"Tell me about what happened," Kelly said quietly, leaning in.

"No."

"Sorry?"

"We've ran out of time," Miranda said, checking her omni-tool's chronometer, "We'll talk more tomorrow, Kelly."

"Of course, Miranda."

She headed for the door to Kelly's office, her shoulders slumped slightly as she reached it; her hand extended.

"Oh, Miranda?" Kelly called after her.

The dark haired woman turned back, a curious look on her face, "Hm?"

"Commander Shepard wants to see you," Kelly said with a smile.

"Ah," Miranda nodded, "Of course."

* * *

**End Chapter Two**


	3. Interlude One

_Interlude One._

"You needed to see me, Shepard?" She asked, leaning against the doorframe of the armoury.

The Commander herself was hunched over a work-table; in the midst of dismantling a long barrelled rifle. She twisted, then pulled the barrel free, examining it with a keen eye.

"Dirt on the base, how did that get there?" Shepard wondered aloud.

Miranda paused, she knew the Commander well enough to understand when she was distracted and when she wasn't.

She set the barrel of the gun aside and turned around, dusting her grimy hands off on the sides of her dirtied t-shirt.

"Yes, I did," Shepard sat down on a nearby stool, "These talks you've been having with Kelly, are they affecting your work?"

Straight to the point, Miranda liked that, "Has my work deteriorated lately, Commander?"

Shepard shook her head, "No. I just wanted to squash any problems before they arose."

Miranda nodded in agreement.

Shepard turned the stool around and leant over the work-table again. She picked up a slim rag and began rubbing down the barrel she'd set aside; cleaning away any grime or dirt that had congealed there, "Unbelievable. These things are supposed to be dirt-proof, but Zaeed always finds a way."

"He's got an impressive talent for destruction," Miranda smiled wistfully, moving away from the door-frame and stepping forward, "Was there anything else, Shepard?"

Shepard paused and turned her head to the side, as if straining to hear something, "No, nothing."

Miranda turned to leave, her heels clicking on the cold, metal floor of the armoury.

"Actually, Miranda?" Shepard called after her, "Go see Garrus. He's on the engineering deck, I think."

Miranda paused, trying to think of an excuse, or a rational objection, but instead she simply said, "Of course, Shepard."

* * *

"Vakarian," Miranda called out, striding between row upon row of landing craft. Her head pivoted and turned in every direction, searching for the elusive Turian.

"Over here," He called back, his reverberating voice bouncing around the wide open room.

"Over _where_?" Miranda murmured to herself, disgruntled.

"Here," Garrus said firmly, stepping out from behind a shuttle, his omni-tool was open and a holographic display of the shuttle's interior workings was hovering above it.

Miranda nodded to the shuttle, "What's the problem?"

"Not important," Garrus said, turning off his omni-tool with a flick of his wrist, "Shepard said you were having night-terrors."

"Did she?" Miranda cocked an eyebrow.

"What? Too tough to have nightmares?" Garrus asked, feigning surprise, "Or did your daddy remove that gene along with the 'don't-be-a-humourless-murderer' genetic marker?"

"Very good, Vakarian," Miranda nodded, "Although I still think you're best joke was your attempt at a career in C-Sec."

Garrus laughed brusquely, "Nice."

"And now that we're done with your customary sparring match every time someone tries to talk to you, perhaps you could explain to me how exactly Shepard expects you to be able to help me with my problem?"

"Well," Garrus sighed, leaning back against the shuttle's gunfire-scarred nose, "I wasn't exactly the most stable person myself when I signed up for this ride."

"Oh, I think you did just fine."

"But," Garrus cut across her, ignoring the jibe, "I was able to work through it."

"So what you're saying is I have to hunt down everyone who wronged me and put a gun to their head?" Miranda nodded slowly, "I could get behind that."

"No," Garrus said, "Although it couldn't hurt. But you should probably stop holing yourself up in your office all day; maybe come on a mission or two, something to settle your nerves, you know?"

"How does getting shot at help settle my nerves exactly, Garrus?"

"I don't know, works wonders for me," Garrus shrugged.

"Such a splendid help you've been," Miranda nodded sardonically, "Really."

"Alright, alright," Garrus stood up straight, "All I'm saying is, if you stay inside and keep your mind focused on whatever's troubling you. You'll never sleep soundly again. Short of going on a one-woman rampage, your best bet for getting past this is to keep your mind distracted."

"That's bloody stupid," Miranda sneered, "The first thing a soldier is taught is that if you're distracted; you're dead."

"Yeah, but you're not a soldier."

"Right," Miranda said quietly, turning away, "Thanks anyway, Garrus."

* * *

This was, by far the stupidest thing she'd ever considered. The door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss. Her heels clacked against the ground once more.

The alien turned to greet her, his black eyes blinked twice; bewildered.

"How do you sleep, Krios?" Miranda asked firmly.

Thane glanced around the room, as if searching for an escape. Or an explanation.

He made a slight non-committal noise as his mouth gaped open and then closed again. A lot like the fish he resembled, "However I like, Operative Lawson."

"Not what I meant," She sighed.

"I am confused," Thane said quietly, softly.

"Yes," Miranda slowly said, "I can commiserate."

"How do I sleep?" Thane asked the question aloud, his head tilting back and staring at the ceiling, "Odd question. Are you perplexed by living arrangements?"

"Forget it," Miranda said, brushing the question aside, then she added, "Do you ever have nightmares?"

"Nightmares?" Thane asked, again, completely bewildered.

"Bloody hell," Miranda sighed, "Never mind."

"As you wish," The confused Drell whispered to Miranda's disappearing back.

* * *

"If you're having trouble sleeping, talk to Chambers," Jacob shrugged.

"I have been, Jacob," Miranda sighed, rubbing her face.

"Then talk to Shepard," Jacob shrugged again, leaning back against the CIC's main console.

A technician pushed past him, carrying a data-slate.

"I have," Miranda said quietly, frustrated.

"Well then best thing to do is to try your best to stay focused," Jacob folded his arms across his chest, "Go ask Shepard if there any job's that need doing. Try running an op, or something. Anything to keep you focused on the job."

"How's that supposed to help?" Miranda snarled, her brow and face furrowing into an angry grimace.

"Look, you're not the only one feeling this way, okay?" Jacob said, leaning toward her, "Tensions are running high. We haven't gone on a real mission in weeks now. It's just stress and boredom, Miranda, trust me. I've had my fair share of both."

"Sure," She said and without another word, she headed for the elevator.

* * *

"How did it go?" Kelly asked her without looking up from her computer screen.

"You set that up," Miranda said, a hint of anger creeping into her voice.

"Excuse me?" Kelly asked, confused.

"Shepard and sending me to Garrus," Miranda sighed, "You set it up, didn't you?"

"Of course," Kelly said quietly, "I figured if you talked to someone you respected who had experienced something similar it might help you work through it, of course you'd never admit you respect Garrus so I had to get someone you would admit you respect to suggest it to you."

Miranda said nothing, she simply fell back against the couch and smiled.

"You're not the only one who can manipulate people, Miranda," Kelly laughed slightly, "Plus it even got you to consider alternate options, talking to Thane was surprising, I thought you'd go straight to Jacob."

"Thane seemed to make sense, the Drell have a unique way of processing memories," Miranda explained, "I thought perhaps he'd be able to shed some light on how to process dreams."

"No such luck, huh?"

"Not really," Miranda sighed.

"You did good anyway, Miranda," Kelly nodded reassuringly.

"Are you..." Miranda cocked her head to the side, pausing mid-sentence, "Are you trying to evaluate me?"

"Of course," Kelly smiled broadly, "We all already know how strong, fast and skilled you are. How powerful your biotics can be. The only thing that hasn't ever been categorized in a report or studied by an expert with you is your emotional responses to outside stimuli. It's all very intriguing."

"That doesn't help me sleep, Kelly," Miranda sighed, propping her head up with her hand.

"We'll get to that," Kelly nodded slowly, looking up from her work, "In the meantime go to Chakwas. Get something to knock yourself out with, then come back here tomorrow and we'll continue your story, okay?"

Miranda stood up shakily, deep in thought. She was unused to this kind of direction, far too intimate and far too personal, she much preferred the Illusive Man's instructions.

"Okay, Kelly," She said quietly.

* * *

It was a tiny, simple thing, just a blip of information amongst thousands of terrabytes. A single, fragmented message among millions that passed through the net every day. Among the cluttered face of Miranda's office table the only thing that changed with it's arrival was a tiny blue dot appeared on the screen of her computer.

It was a message.

And it was only two words;

_**'ARCTYS LIVES'**_

A meter away, Miranda Lawson slept peacefully in her bed.


	4. Chisholm Part Two

_Session Three; Chisholm (Part Two)_

Miranda seemed shaken, Kelly noted. Something was upsetting her.

"Have a good sleep?" Kelly asked.

"More or less," Miranda said quietly, her eyes roaming around the room.

"So," Kelly said, attempting to get the session back on track, "You assaulted Karnak's station in a decommissioned fighter you bought off of the black market."

Miranda nodded and then turned her head to Kelly, her eyes were open; stunned. It was as if she had just woken from a daydream, "Yes."

'Tell me what happened next," Kelly urged her, stepping around her desk and sitting down on the couch next to Miranda.

"Yes, yes of course," Miranda murmured, glancing back at the door she'd entered through moments ago, "We boarded by jumping from the hatch of our fighter to the remains of the guard's spar. There was a pressure locked door near the corridors that linked the spar to the central section, we got in through there and proceeded with the mission."

* * *

Curtz helped her remove her suit. Above them, klaxons sounded and red warning lights pulsed in a hypnotic rhythm. Like the last, dying beats of some giant monster's heart. She stepped out of the space-suit and ran a hand down the cold, metal surface of her breastplate. Curtz handed her assault rifle to her and she took it with a brief nod.

"Let's move," Was all she said.

And so they did. Moving as one, clearing corners and stepping over the twisted debris that littered the corridors with startling agility.

Curtz' hurdled a twisted structural support. A single blue bolt of light cut across Miranda's vision and smashed into Curtz' chest. He flew backwards, landing on his back with a heavy thump. Miranda tightened her grip on her rifle and fired off two quick bursts down the hallway. The gun kicked against her shoulder, but only lightly.

She couldn't even see her target. But the rounds would keep the, down while she got to cover.

"Curtz, you alright?" She asked, firing off another burst as she ducked into cover, taking a knee behind a knocked over reception desk.

"Yes, ma'am," He said with a groan, rolling onto his front and scrabbling into cover ahead of her, to the right, "Shields stopped it."

"You see them?" Miranda asked, peeking her head out. Another stutter of gunfire cut towards her and she ducked back as it blasted a messy hole into the wooden desk she hid behind.

"Yeah, down to the right, about twenty meters ahead," Curtz raised his rifle and squeezed the trigger. There was a sharp cry from up ahead and Miranda ducked her head out long enough to see a Turian fall sideways from behind a support column; a bloody hole opened up in his chest.

"Anymore?" Miranda asked, leaning out, her gun up.

A bullet smacked into the wall next to her head and she jerked back for a second. _There! _Her gun kicked back again and again as she banged shots off at her target.

"Got him," She hissed as a Batarian collapsed from behind his cover; half his head sheared off by gunfire.

She motioned for Curtz to move up. He acknowledged her with a nod and started moving forward. As they moved forward, heading down the long narrow corridor toward the dance floor, they began to hear screams.

Miranda pushed the thought of Alteia from her mind and kept moving, covering Curtz' back.

* * *

"Screams?" Kelly asked, a slight look of revulsion on her face.

"Yes," Miranda nodded and then, noticing the look on Kelly's face, sighed heavily, "The explosion briefly knocked out the lights in the room where the dance floor was. People panicked. Karnak's guards opened fire, nearly cut down all of them, even killed some of their own in the cross-fire."

Kelly made a disgusted grunt, "Karnak killed them?"

"No, his guards did," Miranda bit her bottom lip briefly, "I knew him. Better than I knew most of my allies, there's no way he'd willingly give an order like that. It was the thug's he'd hired panicking."

"Thugs?" Kelly asked, her curiosity aroused.

"Yes," Miranda rolled the word around on her tongue, "Thugs. Guns for hire. He kept his men, the loyalists, the extremists, the people he'd drawn to him through his charisma and charm, he kept them close to him. Away from the regular guests."

Kelly coughed once, "That must have made him difficult to get to."

"Yes," Miranda nodded, "It did."

* * *

The screams had stopped.

That was the worst thing, Miranda decided.

She lowered her gun and stepped toward the door, "Get ready."

Curtz nodded and stepped up next to her, aiming his gun at the slight space in between the double door.

She tapped in a series of commands into the door's control panel.

It slid open with a faint whooshing sound.

They stepped through the door together, guns up and aiming down the barrel.

They could barely see the ground for bodies. Blood and gore caked the dance floor. The twisted remains of party-goers and guests lay everywhere, as if they'd been thrown aside by some angry god.

"Christ," Curtz said softly. His gun dropped for a second.

That was all the Asari waiting in the shadows to his right needed. She stepped inward, placing her leg between his and threw him backwards; he stumbled, losing his balance and crashing to the ground. His rifle bounced away across the floor.

Miranda turned in the blink of an eye and pressed her gun into the Asari's chest. She felt something hard, round and metal press against her temple in the same instant.

"Lawson?"

Miranda let her gun drop; she knew that voice.

"Alteia," Miranda smiled, "Good to see you survived."

The barrel pressed to her head slowly came away, "Hmph."

Curtz got to his feet and retrieved his gun without a word.

"What's the situation, Alteia?" Miranda asked, scanning the room with her gun.

"Almost all the guests were killed, there might be some survivors on the lower levels, but I doubt it. As soon as you hit the place, the lights went down and everyone started shooting. It was crazy. Karnak tried to stop them, but the guards just kept firing," Alteia shrugged and gently slid her pistol away into the holster on her thigh.

She stepped over the corpse of a guard who had nearly been bisected by automatic weapons fire and lifted the shotgun he had clutched in his dead hands, "He fell back towards the fermentation plant, with Arctys in tow. Corlezia went the other way; heading downwards into the lower levels."

"Corlezia?" Curtz asked, confused.

"Matriarch Corlezia, an anti-human activist turned terrorist," Alteia explained quickly, "She's the reason I signed on for this."

"Any idea on how to proceed?" Miranda asked, sheathing her rifle in the mag-holster on her back and bringing up a display of the station on her omni-tool.

"Yes, actually," Alteia said, a note of happiness appearing in her weary voice, "The fermentation area would be almost impossible to assault with an army, let alone just the three of us. But, there's no way out of there except back through here. So, Karnak will either have to stay in there and risk us having enough weaponry to blow the bottom half of the spar up, or he'll come down here and try and push through to the lower levels, where Corlezia was headed."

"So what's to stop us from blowing the place now and leaving?" Curtz asked, staring at the map of the station that hovered before him.

Alteia pointed at the lower levels with a single blue finger, "These lower levels where everyone came aboard, that's where all the ships are. However, with the guard station destroyed the only people with clearance to leave are Arctys and Karnak. So Corlezia is trapped there until Karnak joins her. She can't leave, but neither can we."

"So we're stuck in the middle of two heavily armed groups who both want us dead and both need to come back through where we are?" Curtz asked, his voice fraught with disbelief.

"Alright," Miranda said at last. Both her companions turned to stare at her.

"Curtz, get up on the top floor, secure the entrance to the fermentation plant; anti-personnel mines, grenades, holograms to distract them anything you can think of to stop or delay Karnak from coming back through here without damaging the structure," Miranda tore her combat webbing free from her body and handed it over to him, "Here's my explosives, use them well."

Alteia pulled two long, black tube-shaped devices from her garter, "Flash-bangs, might buy you some time if they try and storm through the door in a group."

Curtz nodded, relieved to be given an order that made sense, "You expecting me to hold this room by myself, ma'am?"

Miranda smiled, "As only a Cerberus soldier could, Curtz. Keep on the radio, do not engage unless you have to."

Curtz moved with a purpose, heading for the upper balcony that overlooked the dance-floor.

"And us?" Alteia asked, already knowing the answer.

"We're going to go down and kill the Matriarch," Miranda said, a crackle of blue energy ran along her fore-arm and danced across her fingertips, "It's been a while since I've used my biotics in a real fight."

Alteia's eyes opened wide, a thin smile appearing on her face, "Corlezia isn't alone, she's got an entire unit of Asari Commandos down there with her. Have you ever faced a squad of Asari Commandos before?"

Miranda shook her head, "Few humans have. But I'm not your average human."

She pulled her rifle free and gave an appreciative grunt as it slid open; each part locking into place in perfect, practiced unison.

"Let's move."

* * *

"Corlezia was a powerful biotic, I take it," Kelly said, resting her arm on the back of the couch.

"No, actually," Miranda said quietly, "She was skilled with what she had but far below the average in terms of sheer power. Her Commandos were the real threat."

"Hmmm," Kelly nodded slowly in understanding, "Shepard fought a Matriarch and some Commandos before, as well. On Noveria?"

Miranda nodded, "Yes, I've read the report."

"She said it was a tough fight."

"I'd imagine it was; Benezia was a powerful biotic and a strong willed woman and her Commandos were top of the line soldiers. Corlezia's had grown lazy and complacent ransacking human trade vessels and murdering civilians."

"Gruesome," Kelly murmured.

"Yes, and bad target practice," Miranda smiled darkly.

* * *

Alteia entered the departure station first, with Miranda moving in, in the space of a heartbeat, behind her.

Miranda swung the barrel of her gun around the room in a tight arc, scanning for targets. There were none; none that she could see, at least. The docking station was a mess of various ships of all different sizes. Above them, three floors up, a thin walkway stretched out into the central control hub which overlooked the cavernous room.

The ships were locked into large steel racks which held them there with large round magnets attached to their bases. The ships were a varying assortment of fighters, transport ships and shuttles. Each one a different size, make and type.

They lined the walls and rose up in giant stacks of metal in the centre of the room. Far to their right, on the other side of the control hub, sat the exit doors. Gargantuan in size, they made up the entire right wall. On the other side of their translucent surface Miranda could see stars twinkling dimly.

She stepped forward, moving in front of Alteia and stepping around a stack of shuttles that stretched up far above her.

To her left, through the haze of metal chassis' she could see a large doorway and beyond that a set of stairs stretching upward. She motioned that way and began moving.

A loud-speaker crackled to life high above them.

"Welcome to my parlour, said the spider to the flies," The voice was dark and deep and hoarse, like rich chocolate flowing over broken glass.

"Corlezia," Alteia hissed, gesturing to the control hub that hung in the air above them with the barrel of her shotgun.

Miranda nodded, then took another cautious step forward.

"Ah, Alteia, is that you, dear?" Corlezia's voice came from everywhere at once, "Well now, let's see what I can do to make your stay here a little more comfortable..."

There was the rough sound of machinery grinding and coughing and then a harsh squeal, "...and a lot more permanent."

The stack nearest to them let out a low, wailing moan.

"Oh shit!" Alteia hissed, "Run!"

The magnets holding the tower of shuttles in stasis de-activated. The shuttles themselves hung in the air for a moment, then came cascading down. Metal screeched as it clashed together. Miranda dove forward, a shuttle eight times the size of her smashed nose-first into the spot where she'd been standing moments before and then was smashed aside by another one crashing down into its side.

Alteia ducked as another came down, the air whistling around it, and then flipped end over end as it crashed into the ground. It passed over her head with an inch of space to spare and crashed into the base of another tower of vehicles.

"Who's fucking idea was this!" Alteia barked as she hurdled an overturned ship, narrowly avoiding being crushed by another one flying down.

"Head for the doorway!" Miranda yelled, she scrabbled to her feet and then bolted flat out.

Metal flew in every direction; a tidal wave of bent chassis smashed together and chased them down the narrow space between the stacks. Alteia turned and let out a strangled roar; raw energy flowed through her body and burst forth from her hands. The ships smashed against a wall of blue light and then held still.

Alteia stepped back, slowly, purposefully. Her arms were outstretched and straining with the pressure of holding back near a thousand tons of twisted metal.

"Come on!" Miranda barked.

The biotic shield flickered once, then blinked out of existence. Alteia ran for the doorway. Miranda ducked aside as the Asari leapt through, followed by the clashing wave of metal that chased her.

Miranda rolled onto her side and coughed once, dust clogged her sinuses. But otherwise, she was okay. She felt something warm pressed against her and slowly opened her eyes. Alteia stared back at her, a look halfway between indignant fury and utter shock filled her face.

Miranda coughed again, pushed the stunned Asari off of her and stood up.

"Is..." Alteia coughed once, picking up her shotgun from where it had fallen, "...is every one of your operations like this?"

"Not quite," Miranda said, her breath coming in ragged gasps, she glanced around for her rifle and realized it was missing.

She drew her pistol free with a deep gasp of air and flicked the safety off, "Come on. This bitch is going to pay for causing me so much trouble."

Alteia allowed herself the relaxation of a small grin, "That's what I like to hear, Lawson."

Curtz' voice burst over Miranda's ear-piece, "You there, ma'am?"

"Roger that, Curtz, we're here," Miranda responded, breathing heavily, "Just ran into a bit of trouble with our exit strategy, is all."

"Roger that, ma'am. I'm seeing movement on the upper floor. Figured you'd want to be kept notified, looks like a lot of infantry," Curtz' voice was far too calm to be natural, "I could really appreciate some company here; I don't think the explosives are going to make too big of a dent."

"Roger that, Curtz, we'll be back as soon as we can," Miranda responded.

Alteia gave her a quick nod, "What's the situation?"

"Grim," Miranda said quietly.

* * *

"Did you know how many men Karnak had coming back through the station with him?" Kelly asked.

"No," Miranda said, "Not exactly."

"But you knew it was a lot," Kelly said, as more a statement than a question.

Miranda paused for a second, "Yes."

"I see," Kelly said quietly, looking away, "So you knew that Curtz' wouldn't be able to hold them off?"

"Yes."

* * *

There was an explosion in her ear-piece as she ascended the first set of stairs, "Curtz, you okay?"

"Fine, ma'am," Curtz voice came back; strained with concentration, "They've hit the first set of charges."

A second explosion crackled across her ear-piece, "Curtz!"

"I'm fine, they've hit the second set, they're moving slower now, but they'll be near the door soon!"

Gunfire rattled across her ear-piece and she swore.

"Engaging!" Curtz yelped, then the line went dead.

'Shit," Miranda swore under her breath.

She hurdled the rest of the stairs, leaping up them in long strides. Alteia followed behind her, running with her shotgun pressed tight to her shoulder.

At the head of the stairs was the entrance to the walkway; an oval shaped doorway which two Asari stood behind, aiming assault rifles at the head of the stairs. Miranda shot them both dead without breaking her stride, her pistol's barrel blazing red hot as she put a neat, clean double-tap into each of their chests.

Ahead, on the walkway, two more Commandos waited. They opened fire, their shots thudded against Miranda's shield and threw her to the ground. Her finger spasmed on the trigger as she fell, a burst of gunfire tore into the ceiling.

Alteia leapt over her fallen form. Her shotgun barked once and slammed one of the Asari back over the walkway's railing. She fell backwards with a scream that split Alteia's ears. The second Asari spun to aim at her. Alteia flung a wave of biotic energy at her with her right hand; the air crackled and the smell of burnt ozone flared up her nostrils as the energy collided with the Commando.

The Asari soldier was flung backwards into the air, smashing against the ceiling high above with a sickening crunch.

"Miranda!" Alteia called.

"I'm okay," Miranda responded, pulling herself up to her feet, "Stupid mistake."

"Your soldiers are dead Corlezia!" Alteia screeched, aiming her gun down the walkway at the central control hub.

The square, walled off room had no response.

Then the speaker overhead crackled to life, the voice was no longer taunting or mocking, the voice was completely cold, "You're dead, you little slut. As soon as you take a step toward this room I'm going to tear you apart."

Miranda looked questioningly at Alteia.

"No way she can do that," Alteia whispered back reassuringly.

"Good," Miranda responded, gripping her pistol with her left hand as she raised her right up high above her head.

Her hand tightened into a fist as light danced across her knuckles.

"Ready?" Miranda asked quietly.

"Of course," Alteia said, stepping forward, aiming down the sights of her shotgun.

"Now!" Miranda yelled, hurling her closed hand forward. A ball of azure light flew forward and slammed into the door to the hub. The entire front wall of the hub, door and all, crumpled inward like a tin can. The roof creaked and sloped downward with the sagging weight.

Alteia sprinted the length of the walkway in an instant and then leapt inside through the twisted, shattered remains of the doorframe.

There was a screech of surprise from inside. Then a gunshot.

A half a minute late and Alteia came back out, the front of her dress stained with blood.

Miranda sized her up briefly, then nodded, "Let's get moving."

* * *

"You went back for Curtz?" Kelly asked, unable to hide the hint of surprise in her voice.

"Didn't read that far ahead, I take it?"

"No," Kelly shook her head, "I'm sorry Miranda, but I assumed you'd..."

"Leave him?" Miranda nodded, understanding, "I thought about it, but I guess part of me thought I might be able to get back in time."

"Ah," Kelly said, her mouth forming a silent 'o' shape.

"I didn't, in case you were wondering."

* * *

Karnak stared down at them, his face impassive and unreadable. He was slender, for a Batarian and a long, thin scar ran across the top of his head. It cut cleanly across his two top eyes. Neither one was open.

Curtz knelt at his feet, the barrel of Arctys' pistol pressed against the back of his head. His mouth had been gagged and his eyes blindfolded.

A squad of soldiers lined the balcony; Batarians, Turians and Salarians, all with their guns pointed downward at Miranda and Alteia.

"Throw your weapons towards me," Karnak said slowly, purposefully, his voice steady.

Alteia moved to throw her shotgun, but Miranda stopped her with her hand, "No."

Alteia looked at her, confused.

"He's going to kill him anyway," Miranda said evenly, her voice steady.

Karnak nodded, "I'm glad we understand each other, Miranda Lawson."

Arctys fired. Curtz crumpled forward, his body smacking against the ground with a wet thud.

"You bastard!" Miranda snarled, her whole body involuntarily sparked with bright blue energy.

Arctys drew a bead on Alteia next, his slender, clawed hand completely steady.

Karnak stopped the Turian with a wave of his hand and leant forward onto the balcony, "I am going to leave now, Miranda Lawson. I am going to leave now unmolested, unharmed and you are going to stay, for a moment at least. I will leave you a ship, do not worry, and some medi-gel for her."

Miranda realized what was about to happen a second too late. Arctys' pistol spat once more and Alteia yelped with pain as she crumpled backward, blood staining her side.

"Son of a bitch!" Miranda brought her own gun up and aimed at Karnak as she dropped to a knee beside the wounded Asari.

"I am going to leave and you will not follow me," Karnak explained slowly; his lower eyes blinking in rhythm with the odd cadence of his voice, "And then, when you finally do track me down as we both know you will, I will stand ready to show you the true hypocrisy of the human utopia. Do we still understand each other, Miranda Lawson, Cerberus spy?"

Miranda pressed her hand to Alteia's wound and didn't look as she responded, "Get out of here, you bastard. While I let you."

Karnak nodded and then smiled slightly, "Thank you, Miranda Lawson, for not making this difficult."

Their footsteps clanged on the stairs as they came down from the balcony.

As they exited the stairwell, they found Miranda's pistol following them. Karnak strode softly across the dance-floor stepping gently over the twisted, burnt and ruined bodies that littered it.

"Karnak," Miranda called after him, softly, "I am going to kill you."

Karnak turned back to face her. Then he nodded solemnly, "Not quite yet though, I think."

Without another word between them, Karnak pulled a medi-gel container from one of his soldiers' combat vests and threw it across the room. It fell at Miranda's feet.

"Goodbye, Miranda Lawson."

* * *

"He let you go?" Kelly asked, stunned.

"Yes," Miranda said sourly, "He kept his promise. So did I."

"But why?"

"Karnak understood death better than anyone I'd ever met," Miranda said slowly, "Certainly better than I did. He knew that killing me wouldn't change anything."

"Then why kill Curtz?" Kelly asked, relaxing back into her seat slightly.

"To prove a point," Miranda nodded, "To show me that it wouldn't ever end. 'Violence begets violence', his words. He knew who I was, he'd gained information on me at some point, probably after I killed Getholk. He was trying to tell me something."

"Tell you what?"

"That this cycle that created us both, this cycle of death and mistrust and paranoia that made us into who we were at that moment, the cycle that had us pointing guns at each other, it wasn't ever going to end," Miranda said bitterly, "I was a thesis to him, a canvas with which to paint his opinion of the world and show it to everyone; to prove that he was right and they'd always be wrong."

Kelly gasped, "I'm so sorry, Miranda."

"Don't be, after all, he was right," Miranda brushed a lock of hair away from her face, and in that moment Kelly saw just how old and wearied Miranda Lawson truly was, "Are we done here?"

"Yes, yes, I think so," Kelly said. She moved to put her hand on Miranda's shoulder. But she was already gone.

* * *

_End Session Three_


	5. Interlude Two

_Interlude Two_

"You seem distracted, Miranda," Shepard observed as she through a haymaker at Miranda's head.

Miranda ducked under the blow and delivered an open-handed blow to Shepard's ribs. The commander staggered backwards, thrown off balance.

"If you say so, Shepard," Miranda gave a wide grin; flashing her blood-stained teeth at her opponent.

There was nothing like this, nothing like the thrill of a fight. Blood pumped throughout her body, the pounding rhythmic beat filled her ears and her bones. She flexed her arms in front of her, waiting for Shepard's next move.

The training ring they stood in was spattered with blood. Shepard leapt over a particularly large puddle and then ducked low as she landed. Her foot lashed out and caught Miranda's ankle.

Miranda stumbled backwards, a swear dying on her lips as she was sent reeling.

Arctys.

The message.

The nightmares.

Everything disappeared as she focused on maintaining her balance and keeping her focus. Another foot cut through the air towards her, this one aimed at her ribs. She caught the blow in her hands and turned it aside, her own foot snapped forward and caught Shepard on the bottom of her jaw.

The Commander fell backwards, crashing to the ground with a dull thud. She rolled away as Miranda pressed the attack; stomping down with her right foot as she stepped forward with her left.

Shepard stopped, grabbed he descending foot in her hands and sent Miranda off-balance with a twist of her wrists. The Cerberus operative crashed to the ground next to her, landing on her side. She gasped in pain. Her legs swung around, battering Shepard's prone form with lightning fast blows.

Shepard rolled away again, Miranda chased her. Shepard leapt to her feet, her hands came up to defend herself. Miranda followed her to a standing position, a single closed fist rushing forward for an attack.

"Stop!" Shepard cried out, a smile creeping onto her face, "You've won."

She gave a short, breathy laugh and then clutched a hand to her side, "I think you might have broken a rib with that kick, Miranda."

Miranda didn't respond, only let her hand slowly drop to her side and fall open, relaxed. She was breathing hard; harder than she'd breathed in a long time, Shepard was a tough opponent. But still only human.

"It was a lucky blow," Miranda gasped, rubbing her knuckles. They were split open; blood dripped steadily to the floor.

"Tell that to my bones," Shepard laughed, lifting a towel from a nearby rack and handing it to Miranda.

Miranda wiped the sweat from her brow and nodded, "Thank you, anyway."

"For the sparring session, or the compliment?" Shepard asked, patting herself down with her own towel.

"Both," Miranda replied, "It was a nice distraction."

Shepard nodded, understanding, "You talked to Garrus then, I take it?"

Miranda nodded in response, "Yes, it was helpful. More than I liked to admit. Thank you for that as well."

"Thank Garrus," Shepard smiled.

"Maybe I will," Miranda said quietly.

"Kelly said you were acting strange during yesterday's session," Shepard said, breathing hard, "It's good to see you in better spirits."

"Yes, well," Miranda said, a faint smile appearing on her features, "It feels good too."

"I'm glad to hear it."

* * *

The galaxy spun lazily behind them, stars burst and exploded as planets glowed dimly in the warm light of the CIC. Kelly's station was untouched, pristine. The workplace of a neat-freak, or someone with far too much time on their hands, Miranda observed.

"I'd like to talk, Kelly," Miranda said quietly, "Do you have any time available?"

Kelly seemed taken back at first, staring at Miranda with something close to shock.

"I'd like to arrange an appointment," Miranda said again, a bit louder, a bit more forcefully.

"Miranda, all your appointments up until now have been arranged by Commander Shepard," Kelly paused, then rubbed a hand along the back of her neck, "Why would you change that now?"

"Something came up," Miranda sighed, "Yesterday, I mean. I got a message from an old friend; one of few."

"Bad news?" Kelly asked, worry creasing her voice.

"You could say that," Miranda said, glancing uneasily around, "But I think it's important to talk about it, last night, even after I got the news I still managed to sleep well. Without drugs. I think maybe the sessions are working."

"Okay," Kelly said, and this time there was genuine happiness in her voice, "But first, do me a favour."

Miranda cocked a quizzical eyebrow.

"Go talk to Samara," Kelly said, "Ask her about her code and about her regrets."

Miranda snorted derisively, "I highly doubt a Justicar will be too keen on chatting, Kelly."

Kelly smiled as she pushed past Miranda and headed for the elevator, "People will surprise you, Ms. Lawson."

"They haven't yet," Miranda muttered under her breath.

* * *

The only light in the observation room was the azure glow of Samara's biotic field. The void yearned before her, barely out of reach behind the reinforced viewing port that took up most of the wall in front of her. The Asari floated a half a foot of the ground, her legs folded over one another in a meditative position. Her hands rested on her knees, palms up and open. Light gathered there; spheres of biotic energy coalesced, then popped in miniature showers of sparks and coalesced again.

The air hummed with power as Miranda stepped inside and let the door slide shut behind her. She waited by the door for a full minute before she dared speak; "Samara?"

"Yes, Miranda?" The Asari's voice was like cool spring-water, simultaneously relaxing and chilling.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you," Miranda said quietly, stepping gingerly across the carpeted floor. She glanced around at the tapestries and exotic cloths Samara had hung from the ceiling and immediately felt humbled. This place, this sanctuary, was not to be disturbed lightly, something told her.

"Of course you can," Samara said quietly, her voice was like that of someone in a trance; focused and direct, but not harsh.

"I had questions about your code," Miranda paused before continuing, "And if you ever regret the choices you've made in following it."

"The code?" Samara turned her head around to face the human woman, her eyes were blue orbs, glowing with the arcane power of an Asari Justicar, "My code is now Shepard's to decide. Any questions you have on that subject should probably be directed to her."

"I meant before, when you operated alone," Miranda explained, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt. There was something wrong with this, something sacrilegious in her actions.

" 'Operated'? Such a delicate word," Samara rolled it around on her tongue, savouring the sound of it, "Why do you humans always give too many meanings to so many words. I killed. Many times. It was unpleasant. There was very little surgical about it."

"Well," Miranda coughed to clear her throat, "I'm glad you're being forward at least."

"I am sorry," Samara said quietly, "I am still getting use to the company of others, even now. Especially now, in fact. I had companions before, but they never stayed longer than a few days. We have been together for months."

Miranda nodded slowly, "I see."

"As for your questions," Samara continued, her eyes slowly fading back into their normal colour, "Yes. I have regrets. Many regrets."

"You have, what, misgivings?" Miranda asked, disbelieving.

"Is that so shocking?" Samara gently fell to the floor, "Do you think me incapable of emotion? Or of understanding the gravity of my actions? To take a life is a great thing, a tremendous thing. A necessary thing. But I have yet to find a situation where it is a good thing."

"It's just..."

"Yes?"

"The way you talk of your code..."

"The code is no more mine than any other Justicar's," Samara stood gently, soundlessly, "Do you think I took the oath because I liked the terms of the pact between us? Or because I agreed with its ideologies? No. The code is a purpose; a terrible, horrific purpose. But I dedicate myself to it because I must. Because I can. Because there are few others who would."

"But the people you kill," Miranda threw her hand wide, gesturing weakly towards the void, "Thugs, murderers, rapists. All of them guilty."

"Of some crimes, yes. But lives are not shaped by single actions, or even multitudes of them. By killing these people I have taken everything they were and everything they could possibly be," Samara stretched her limbs out and turned to stand before Miranda; face to face, "If I can kill these people, could someone else not reform them? Is redemption not preferable to death? How do I know the Red Sand smuggler I kill in one system could not have cured an incurable disease if educated in another? These are the questions that plague my many sleepless nights."

"I'm sorry."

"The void is so vast and the people in it so small," A single tear slipped down Samara's cheek, she stepped aside and pressed her hand to the viewing port, "I asked Mordin to perform a study many days ago; to evaluate the people out there and decide which were worth saving and which were not. I had heard he had done similar studies on the Krogan. But the sample size was too large, too unpredictable to be accounted for."

Miranda set a hand on Samara's shoulder.

"I would hope this has helped you," Samara said, gently brushing aside Miranda's hand.

"It has," Miranda nodded, then swallowed audibly.

"May I ask what brought you here?"

"I learnt of a survivor of a mission I undertook a long time ago," Miranda replied, her hand hanging in the air.

"This survivor, were they an unjust being?"

"Very much so," Miranda nodded again, "I've been having nightmares. Night terrors, dealing with killings I made then, this visit to you was the suggestion of Kelly Chambers."

"Ah, I see, so this would be a therapeutic visit, then?" Samara inquired, her eyes narrowing.

"Of sorts," Miranda replied, "I learnt of the survivor only a little while after the nightmares began."

"An odd coincidence."

"Yes," Miranda agreed.

"Do you intend to hunt down this person and correct your earlier failing?" Samara asked, turning her head to lock eyes with Miranda.

"I do, when I find them."

"Inform when you do," Samara said, her eyes drifting back out to gaze at the void, "I'd like to come along, if you would permit me."

Miranda paused for a second, unsure how to respond, "I'd appreciate that."

Samara simply nodded in response; her lips curving into a small, tragic smile, "Good luck, Ms. Lawson."

* * *

"How was she?" Kelly asked, propping her chin up with her hand, staring deep into Miranda's eyes.

"Impressive," Miranda responded, "She's very intelligent, for someone so devout."

"You think faith doesn't allow for wisdom, Miranda?"

"Generally? Yes."

Kelly shrugged and scribbled a note on her data-pad, "Very well."

"So what would you like me to talk about?" Miranda said, ignoring the action.

"Whatever you like. What interests you."

"How about the end of Operation Forseti, then?" Miranda said quietly, looking away.

"If you want," Kelly nodded.

"Alright then," Miranda said, leaning forward, "I'll tell you what happened. I'll tell you how I killed Karnak."


	6. Karansys

_Session Three; Karansys_

"It started with a gun-runner," Miranda explained as she slowly circled the couch, "He'd been trading weapons to Karnak in exchange for credits. Alteia and I picked him up on the edge of the Terminus systems, took him to a small planet called Kurlos; uninhabited, of course. Threatened to strand him there unless he told us what Karnak was doing and where."

Kelly blinked once, "What did he tell you?"

Miranda smiled, "Nothing much. All the transactions were done through a third party, he never even met Karnak. Not once. But he did meet the third party."

"So you tracked the third party."

"Exactly, Kelly," Miranda nodded, pacing around the room , "She was a Batarian, went by the name Aralkesh."

"What was her connection to Karnak?" Kelly asked, flicking through pages on her data-pad.

"They both came from the same planet, same city, in fact," Miranda said, running a hand through her hair, "Have you ever heard of Artkel?"

Kelly shook her head.

"I didn't expect so," Miranda smiled darkly, there was something predatory to it, "It was a Batarian mining planet; just outside the Terminus systems, inside Council space. The Batarians mined from orbit, using large sonar pulses to disrupt the earth and rock and reveal deposits of minerals and gases. Very dangerous technology, but also very useful."

"They'd, what, blast the rock away?" Kelly asked, confused.

"Not quite. Have you ever heard of people who would fish with dynamite or a shotgun?" Miranda asked, setting her hands down on the spine of the couch, "The gunshot or the explosion isn't what kills the fish, it's the shockwaves travelling through the water that pulverize their organs. Very messy, very painful."

"Gross," Kelly wrinkled her nose, "You're saying these machines worked the same way?"

"Similar principle," Miranda shrugged, "The sonar waves pulverized the earth and rock and made it easier for the ground teams to dig up precious minerals, which would be pushed closer to the surface; in theory, at least."

Kelly nodded slowly, "Okay."

"Of course, the sonar waves would be fatal to anyone on the surface, so they worked in six months shifts. One cycle would be dedicated to using the sonar waves from orbit, then the next would be sending in ground teams to dig."

"Clever," Kelly said, understanding.

"Batarian efficiency," Miranda snorted derisively, "Karnak lived there, before the mining began. When the mining did begin, everyone who could work was moved to the orbiting stations. Everyone who couldn't was relocated off-world. Karnak could work, so he and his family were put onto one of these stations, alongside this Aralkesh woman."

"So what turned a miner into a terrorist?" Kelly asked pointedly, setting her data-pad aside and placing the end of her pen against her bottom lip.

"The Alliance, of course," Miranda smiled again; that dark, twisted smile.

"The Alliance?" Kelly asked dryly, "That seems hard to believe."

"A group of Alliance cruisers, doing routine patrols. They spotted the stations in orbit and panicked. I guess they didn't realize what they were. The Batarians had two ships there protecting the stations from pirates. I don't know who fired the first shot, but the Alliance definitely fired the last," Miranda stepped around to the front of the couch and sat down, "Only one station survived and it was just a shell by the time the Alliance guns were through with it."

"So that's why Karnak hated the Alliance," Kelly said quietly.

"Yes," Miranda exhaled a deep breath, "Not a single Batarian in orbit survived. Karnak was on the planet as part of a dig crew. One of the stations misfired during the assault and sent a sonar wave down to the planet."

"Oh god," Kelly gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

Miranda nodded solemnly, "Half the Batarians on the surface died screaming, their organs liquefied, the other half suffered thousands of debilitating symptoms between them. They only survived because they'd been inside the dig site's shielded main building."

"How have I never heard of this? Surely an atrocity like that wouldn't just get swept away?"

"There weren't exactly a wealth of survivors willing to testify," Miranda shrugged, "And Karnak and the other survivors were trapped there for over a month. They had some shuttles between them, but nothing capable of long-range travel."

"So this Aralkesh, she was another survivor? God that's awful," Kelly shuddered.

"Yes, she was something of a liaison for Karnak," Miranda clasped her hands in front of her and stared at them as she spoke, "Whenever Karnak needed something, she was assigned to get it."

"What was she like?" Kelly asked suddenly, gazing off into nothingness.

"She was a hell of a shot," Miranda said, leaning back, "And she fought like crazy."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant, Kelly, and I don't know what the answer is."

* * *

Aralkesh stood on the balcony overlooking the harbour. The balcony belonged to the Artellum Hostel, an intergalactic hot-spot for diplomats and foreign dignitaries. Alteia had laughed when they'd found out that Aralkesh was staying there. Miranda hadn't found it that funny.

Her rifle was propped up against window of the apartment she'd rented in the harbor district. The scope was trained on Aralkesh's balcony. She traced the crosshairs of the scope up Aralkesh's slender form, realizing how easy it would be to take the shot. From here, only a scant few hundred meters away, the bullet would likely not only pass through Aralkesh's shields, but probably her body too.

The police would probably find the slug embedded in the wall opposite the balcony if they were lucky. Or in the next room, having killed some young couple lying in bed, if they weren't.

She hated the harbor, hated the smell of the salt-water; hated the crowded, narrow streets and she definitely hated the stink of gutted fish that seemed to permeate everything. She pushed the thought from her mind and tightened her grip on the barrel of the rifle.

"Alteia, you see anything?" She said into the head-set she wore, "Aralkesh is staying put on her balcony. The seller must not be here yet."

"Nothing yet," Alteia's voice crackled in her ear, "Certainly nothing that could hold the cargo Aralkesh is expecting."

Miranda sighed and rubbed above her eye, "Okay, keep an eye out."

She checked the heat-readout on her sniper rifle for the twelfth time that hour and sighed again. Usually she enjoyed the weight, but this was different. Operation Forseti had taken on a frightening sense of urgency after the assault on Chisholm. The Illusive Man had been less than pleased with the end result. She could still see his cold, ice-blue eyes fixing her with that look of disappointment. It was one of the few times she'd ever seen him let an emotions how so readily like that.

'Miranda? You there?" Alteia's voice burst out over the comm. line, "I'm seeing something coming up the south street; some kind of APC or similar."

"Hold on," Miranda responded calmly, tracking the scope of her rifle back down from the balcony and along the narrow street to the south.

Sure enough, there it was. Trundling along between the narrow gap in-between the buildings, belching smoke and screeching with the sound of grinding axles as it roared along down the street. People scurried out of its way, pressing themselves flat against the surface of the majestic buildings that lined each side of the street.

What Karansys planetary development officials lacked in street building and location skills they made up for in extravagance.

"I see it," Miranda whispered back, "Are you in position?"

"Affirmative," Alteia said quietly, "I've got the charge set and ready, as soon as they hit the parking garage they're history."

Miranda's crosshairs bounced as she brought them back up to the balcony. A Krogan had joined Aralkesh there, his heavy armour glinted in the morning sunlight. They were both staring down at the vehicle making its way toward them.

"Hold up on that Alteia," Miranda said, a spike of fear travelling through her body, "We've got a problem."

"What is it?" Alteia's voice broke across the channel, the impatience in it clear.

"Aralkesh has a Krogan with her, probably a bodyguard to make sure the deal goes down right," Miranda swore quietly, drawing a bead on the Krogan's head.

"Shit," Alteia's voice said quietly.

"Hold off on the explosives, Alteia," Miranda ordered, holding her finger over the trigger of her rifle, "Looks like we're going to have to deal with that Krogan first."

"You got it, Miranda."

* * *

"Alteia and you had become close, I take it?" Kelly asked.

"Close enough for her to want to see the mission through, close enough for her to want revenge for being shot, I suppose," Miranda gently drummed her fingers against her thigh, "So yes, close."

Kelly nodded, "Understandable. Is that why you left her out of your report? Didn't want her to have a Cerberus file of her own?"

Miranda nodded, "I figured I owed her that much."

"So she helped you attempt to blow up a popular hotel?"

"Don't be so dramatic," Miranda said, "We only attempted to blow up part of it, and a light tank."

"Hmmm," Kelly rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "How exactly was that supposed to let you capture Aralkesh?"

"Easily," Miranda replied with a small shrug, then when she saw the look in Kelly's eyes she continued, "Aralkesh was buying something; a shipment of weapons, probably. If we blew it up, we figured we'd either draw her out, or cause her to flee. At which point we'd move in and capture her."

"But this Krogan ruined that plan, I take it?"

"Krogan are dangerous opponents, there was no way I was moving in until it was dealt with," Miranda explained, her voice hard and cold.

"How did you plan to do that?" Kelly asked.

"The old fashioned way."

* * *

Alteia's voice blared through her ear-piece, "The APC is going into the parking garage beneath the building, if we're going to take it out, it has to be now!"

"Alright, alright," Miranda said soothingly, "Give me two seconds, then detonate."

The first thing she felt was the recoil of the rifle jumping back against her shoulder. The second thing she felt was an immense sense of disappointment as the round ricocheted off the Krogan's personal shield. The rifle was an older model, one that had a charging handle that cycled the vent and released the heat build-up. She swore as she pulled the bolt back and slid it home.

The Krogan reeled back with the force of the shot; his head cracked against the doorway out onto the balcony and splintered the finely carved timber into pieces. Her second shot slammed into his chest and took his shields down. A second later, another movement of the rifle's bolt, and she put a third slug through his chin. The tender flesh there exploded in a shower of blood and shards of bone.

The Krogan roared something incoherent and gargled. Down below the crowded streets began to scream. He was still standing, whether through some miracle or sheer Krogan stubbornness Miranda wasn't sure. She cycled the rifle again, just as the explosives in the parking level went off. The shockwave and the sound threw her aim off, but she still managed to put the fourth, and final, round through the remains of the Krogan's destroyed mouth and throat. At the angle she was firing from the bullet exited through the back of the Krogan's skull; taking most of his brain with it.

The entrance to the parking garage billowed smoke and fire, she swung her scope around and aimed there just long enough to catch sight of Alteia sprinting in, her assault rifle slung across the shoulders of her hardened combat suit.

"It's fucking hot in here!" Alteia yelled over the comm. line, her voice half obscured by crackling flames, "And it looks like the supports are going to collapse any minute now, this roof isn't going to hold!"

"Those are load-bearing pillars!" Miranda responded, standing up and letting go of her rifle, "That garage goes it could take down the hotel with it!"

"Then better find this bitch fast!" Alteia snarled with a grunt of exertion, "Get in here!"

Miranda moved to the door of the apartment, pausing only to draw her own rifle from its place on her back before leaving.

* * *

"_You_ blew up the Artellum hotel?" Kelly asked, incredulous, "That was attributed to a Terra-Firma extremist splinter group."

Miranda nodded slyly, "Yes well, The Illusive Man cleans up well."

Kelly's right eye arched upwards in a mischievous gesture, "Do you miss him?"

"No," Miranda said suddenly, too suddenly to be faked, "He was a powerful man, a principled man, but he'd become too self-absorbed for his own good. And the rest of humanities."

Kelly nodded, then reached around her desk and tapped in a command on her computer screen. The console came to life with a slight hiss, "There's not much in here about your relationship. But what there is, is intriguing."

Miranda shook her head slowly, deliberately, "Not now, Kelly. Not ever. Do you understand?"

Kelly's mouth worked itself open and shut twice before she could speak again, "Okay."

"Good."

* * *

She was inside the hotel now and moving up. The sign by the elevator had warned not to use during a fire emergency, she'd smiled as she passed it in favour of the stairs. It wasn't out of fear, but of the simple knowledge that if Aralkesh was coming down, she'd take the stairs instead of the elevator. There was less chance of being caught on camera in the stairwell. The door on the floor above burst open and two terrified young men rushed through.

They spotted Miranda and instantly stopped, her rifle barrel bounced between the two of them, "Get moving!"

One of them nodded, a panicked, frenzied gesture and then the two of them pushed past her and headed downstairs to the lobby, making sure to avoid stepping anywhere near her gun.

"I'm on Aralkesh's floor," Alteia's voice chimed in, calmer now that she'd left the garage behind, "Haven't seen anyone yet. Headed toward her room right now."

"Roger that. I'm on the stairwell, between the first and second floors, headed to you," Miranda replied, stepping quickly up the reinforced metal stairs.

She cleared the second floor stairs with practiced, ruthless efficiency. At the third floor she did the same. The third floor door almost exploded off its hinges. She ducked out of the way and dived to the side as it flew toward her, the edge of it clipped the barrel of her gun and tore it from her hands; both it and the door disappeared over the edge of the stairwell and fell down to the first floor. There was an ear-splitting clang as they clattered off the edges of the stairs and crumpled against the ground.

Aralkesh lunged at her, four eyes narrowed in concentration, two vice-like hands seeking her throat. She smacked the hands aside and kicked out with her leg. She caught Aralkesh in the stomach with the edge of her boot and sent the Batarian back, gasping for air. She leapt forward, bringing her fist around and swinging at the Batarian's head.

Aralkesh slipped under the blow, coming up behind Miranda, grabbing at her neck again. Her hands clamped down on the human woman's throat. Miranda gasped for air and drove her elbow backwards. Aralkesh didn't even flinch. She flailed her arms at the Batarian and kicked with her feet, desperately trying to dislodge her choke-hold on her.

Aralkesh shifted her weight, one of her hands let go of Miranda and moved behind her back. She wrapped her fingers around the handle of the knife she kept there and pulled it free with a quick tug. The blade came up over Miranda's shoulder and then stabbed downward at her heart. Miranda stopped it with an inch to spare, grabbing Aralkesh's wrist with one of her hands.

They struggled. Miranda battering Aralkesh's ribs with her free hand and Aralkesh choking and pushing the knife downward with hers. Miranda kicked at Aralkesh's knee, but the Batarian deftly moved her leg out of the way. The hand tightened on her throat. The colour of her face darkened and sunspots of black began to appear at the corner of her vision. She couldn't breathe, couldn't focus and certainly couldn't hold the blade at bay any longer.

So she did the only thing she could think of. She let her whole body relax. Her knees collapsed and her whole body slumped to the ground, slipping out of Aralkesh's impossibly tight grip. The blade whistled through the air, seeking her throat. Aralkesh hadn't expected her quarry to fall so quickly. But it had. Her own blade slipped through the air that Miranda had just been occupying and stabbed downward into her thigh. She howled in pain and tore the knife free.

She chased Miranda and Miranda scrabbled backwards on all floors. Miranda's back hit the wall. She gulped. Aralkesh stepped toward her and slashed downward with her knife. Miranda threw herself at the Batarian's legs and pressed her thumb into the wound there. Aralkesh screeched something unintelligible and drew her arm back for another slice, this one aimed at Miranda's jugular.

Miranda wrapped her arms around Aralkesh's legs in a bear-hug. Then, with nowhere else to go, she threw herself backwards down the stairs, dragging the Batarian with her. Aralkesh gave a surprised cry as the knife fell from her grasp and she spun head over heels. Her shoulder smacked into the stairs as the two combatants fell in a tangled heap. Miranda's nose broke against the first step she hit, warm blood splashed downward across the front of her armour. Her hand grabbed for the railing and missed. Her knuckles smacked against it and shattered. She screamed.

They slammed into the second floor stairwell together; both of them breathing hard and bleeding heavily. Miranda felt fatigue seep into every bone in her body. She propped herself up against the wall, her chest rising steadily in rhythm with her breathing. Her broken hand fell limply into her lap. She groaned as she shook her head, trying to bring herself back to full consciousness.

Aralkesh stood slowly, swaying unsteadily on her feet. She stepped gingerly over to her knife, limping, and stooped to pick it up from the ground.

"Stop!" Alteia's voice cried out and for a second Miranda thought it was a hallucination.

It wasn't. She stood on the third floor stairwell, aiming her rifle down over the railing at Aralkesh.

Through the blood and the pain and the broken bones Miranda smiled, "Nice of you to show up."

Alteia shrugged playfully, relief coating her voice, "Well who the hell takes the stairs anymore?"

Miranda laughed, then immediately regretted it as pain flared through her body.

* * *

"Good timing," Kelly observed jokingly.

"Alteia always had a flare for the dramatic," Miranda smiled, reminiscing.

"What did you do next?" Kelly asked, sitting up in her chair and leaning forward.

"The building was going down," Miranda tilted her head back and uttered a long sigh, "So we had to get her out, the cops would be there by now so the front door wasn't an option..."

"How then?"

"We jumped."

"Excuse me?" Kelly's face contorted into a bewildered grimace.

"We headed up a couple of floors and opened a window," Miranda said simply, "Then we jumped to an adjacent building through it, of course Aralkesh tried to escape when she saw what we were doing so we 'helped' her across with a little biotic persuasion."

"Ingenious," Kelly blinked once, stunned.

Miranda shrugged, "We ditched our armour and rifles and slipped out the back door. Then we found a car with a sizable trunk and loaded her in. We were out of the system by the next day."

'Then you interrogated her?"

"Sort of."

"Hmmm?"

"Let me explain."

* * *

Miranda pulled the stool closer to Aralkesh. Her bandaged hand and nose still hurt. There was fury in her eyes.

"Are you going to be difficult?" Miranda asked, her voice steady.

Aralkesh gave no answer.

Miranda gently reached forward and wrapped her good hand around one of Aralkesh's fingers. She snapped it in two with a flick of her wrist. Aralkesh swore in a guttural, alien language.

"I'm sorry?" Alteia said quietly from behind her, the barrel of her pistol pressed against the back of the Batarian's head, "My translator didn't catch that."

"I said," Aralkesh said slowly, "That fucking hurt."

"I'd imagine," Miranda nodded appreciatively, "Tell me what I want to know and I won't have to do it again."

Aralkesh fell silent again. Miranda's hand closed over another of her fingers. There was another snap. Another bout of swearing.

Miranda sighed, then she stood and pulled her own pistol free from her holster, "Have it your way."

She fired the gun into the wall and then pressed the steaming barrel against Aralkesh's knee. Aralkesh winced. Miranda pulled the barrel away, "How about now?"

The Batarian shook her head fiercely. Miranda fired another shot into the wall. Then another after that.

This time she held the barrel up to the Batarian's upper set of eyes, "Guess where this is going?"

Aralkesh's eyes widened in terror, sheer apoplectic shock coated her features as she desperately tried to pull free from the bonds that tied her to her chair.

"Tell me, what I want to know," Miranda said slowly, inching the smoking barrel closer to her top-left eye. A single tear slipped down Aralkesh's cheek, sweat collected on her brow. The heat of the barrel evaporated them both.

"Stop!" Aralkesh cried out, "Stop! Stop!"

Miranda turned the burning barrel aside, "Good girl."

"He's on Artkel!" Aralkesh cried out, "In the plains, where we used to mine! He said you'd know where it was."

Miranda leaned back, "He told you I was coming? He told you to tell me these things? Why did you resist?"

Aralkesh's head drooped forward on her shoulders and she breathed a long sigh, "I thought I might be able to prevent you from going after him, or dissuade you from killing him. You are going to kill him, aren't you?"

Miranda nodded, "He's a murderer."

"And a good man," Aralkesh retorted, sniffling slightly as she straightened her head.

Miranda nodded again, slower this time, "Maybe. That's not my business."

Then, with a curt nod to Alteia, she stood up and left the room, heading for the cock-pit of their ship.

The sound of the gunshot that killed Aralkesh was drowned out by the roar of the cycling engines.

* * *

"You killed her?"

"Yes. As soon as her role in Karnak's organization became apparent she became a target of Operation Forseti," Miranda explained, but even her justification sounded hollow.

"Then you killed Karnak?" Kelly asked, her eyebrows moving up.

"Yes."

"How?"

Miranda smiled wickedly, "I'll give you that story if you give me something in return."

Kelly rolled her eyes, "This is a psychiatrist's office, Miranda, not a marketplace."

"What I want is simple," Miranda said, leaning forward, "And well within your capabilities."

Kelly nodded slowly, hesitantly, "Okay."

Miranda's smile broadened, "Excellent. I'll see you tomorrow then, Kelly."

* * *

_End Session Three_


	7. Interlude Three

_Interlude Three_

"Are you sure about this?"

Kelly paused. Shepard's eyes were locked onto hers. That steely gaze that too many people had seen just beyond the barrel of a gun.

"Yes," She gulped audibly, "Absolutely."

"You're telling me that both Samara and Miranda need shore-leave, immediately?" Shepard's fingers locked together and she pressed them to her chin, her lips contorted the way they always did when she was deep in thought.

Kelly nodded energetically, forcefully, "Yes."

"Miranda I can understand, she's been tense for awhile now, even without these nightmares of hers," Shepard let her hands fall onto her desk and began tapping her fingers impatiently against the surface, "But Samara? I had no idea she was so stressed."

"She likes to keep everything bottled up inside," Kelly shrugged, "You can't know everything, Commander."

Shepard nodded slowly, "Okay. But I want an annotated report of your reasons for this and an update on Miranda and Samara's condition afterwards, understood?"

"Yes, Commander."

"This is the last time though, Kelly," Shepard said, pointing a single finger at the young psychiatrist, "I want to help Miranda and Samara through this as much as you do, but we've got a lot of problems right now and we need everyone active and ready."

"I thought we were on stand-down until Admiral Hackett responded to our message?" Kelly asked, feigning confusion.

"We are," Shepard nodded, "But Tali and Jacob intercepted a Cerberus message earlier today, from the desk of the Illusive Man himself. Something to do with a 'Project Overlord'. We're headed there now to deal with it. But we can make a detour to drop off your two patients wherever they're looking to take their leave."

"Thank you, Shepard. I realize how unorthodox this is," Kelly stood slowly, turning to leave.

"Kelly?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Make sure it's somewhere Miranda will have some fun, for once."

Kelly smiled; a thin, unpleasant smile that didn't fit her features, "Oh, I'm sure she will."

* * *

"You asked to me to take you along," Miranda said quietly, "Well this is me asking you to come."

Samara nodded, "I assume you have cleared it with Shepard?"

"Kelly's doing it right now," Miranda leaned back against the shuttle and folded her arms. The engineering deck was oddly quiet and completely empty aside from the two women.

Samara nodded. Her high cheekbones flexed underneath her taut, azure flesh, "I assume you have a destination for us?"

Miranda brought her omni-tool online; an e-mail hovered in the air in between them, "This is the second message I've received."

"What does it say?" Samara said, squinting and stepping forward to get a better look at it.

"To go to where I thought I killed a man, the survivor I told you about, and his allies," Miranda looked down and away, the e-mail blinked out of existence.

"The unjust being," Samara said quietly.

"Yes," Miranda nodded, flexing her neck and rubbing a hand along the back of it.

"This man, the one you thought was dead, do you plan to kill him?"

Miranda paused, her mouth hung open as she stared at the alien woman, "It's what I do, isn't it?"

Samara had no response.

There was the sound of a throat clearing from behind them. Kelly strode towards them, her face set and impassive.

"Kelly," Miranda greeted her with a nod. Samara bowed slightly as the young women came to a halt next to them.

"It's done. You've got your leave," Kelly said quietly, conspiratorially.

"Thank you, Kelly."

"Miranda?"

"Yes?"

"Before you go, you promised me something," Kelly reminded her.

"Yes, I did," Miranda said, pulling a data-slate out of her pocket. She offered the small device to Kelly, "It's all on here, Ms. Chambers, everything. The whole story. Enjoy."

Kelly took the slate without a word. She slowly stepped back, briefly looking up into Miranda's eyes. Then Samara's.

"Be careful you two."

* * *

Shepard's eyes surveyed Miranda wearily, "Thank you for coming to see me before you leave, Miranda."

"Of course, Shepard. Anything I can do after you've been so generous."

"This sojourn you're taking with Samara?" Shepard took a swig of her drink and settled back into her chair, "Do you know how long you plan on being?"

Miranda shrugged, "Only a day or two, maybe a couple more at most. Not really planning on staying away for too long. It'd just be nice to get some fresh air."

Shepard nodded slowly and took another swig, "Okay."

Miranda got up to leave, but Shepard's voice stopped her, "Miranda, I can understand if you're feeling stressed because of how things turned out with Cerberus. I know what it's like to be cast off by an organization that you've known your whole life."

Miranda's eyes narrowed as she turned back to the Commander, "With all due respect, Shepard, our situations aren't really comparable. You were a soldier, you knew your career was going to end someday. You knew there was going to be something else waiting for you, anything else. On some level, you were ready for this. Hell, you're a hero, the Alliance will take you back no matter what you do."

Shepard's mouth slipped open soundlessly.

"Me?" Miranda continued, "I'm a gun. A weapon. All I would ever get from Cerberus is another assignment and a burial without a tombstone. What do you think is going to happen to me after this, after the Reapers? There's nowhere waiting to take me back in. There' s nothing."

"There's Oriana," Shepard said quietly.

Miranda gave a pained laugh, "Oriana is as much family to me as Mess Sergeant Gardner is. I love her, I'd do anything for her. But I can't ever be in her life."

Shepard's eyes dropped low and her body trembled slightly as she spoke again, "Miranda, I've seen you face down hordes of Mercenaries, Geth and Collector's without batting an eyelid. You're perfect. You were made to be. So where does this doubt come from?"

Miranda stopped dead. Her eyes glanced around the room; looking anywhere but at the woman across from her.

"Miranda the only person I've ever seen stop you from doing something, or being someone else," Shepard stood up gently, stepping around the desk in between them and setting a hand on Miranda's shoulder, "Is you. If you want to be part of a family again, you could be. If you want a place where you can do good, no one in the Alliance is going to turn you away. No one anywhere will. How could they?"

Miranda brushed the hand aside and stepped towards the door.

"You don't have to be a killer any more than you have to be anything the Illusive Man tried to make you," Shepard sighed, "You just have to decide when and how you want change."

Miranda shook her head slowly, then pushed open the door to Shepard's office and stepped outside.

* * *

The shuttle pulled gently out of the docking bay. The two women at its helm were only indistinct, blurred shapes from Kelly's vantage point on the observation deck.

She pressed a single hand to the reinforced viewing window and slid the data-slate out of her pocket. It glowed a feint orange against the black of the void.

With a sigh, she began to read...

_End Interlude Three_


	8. Artkel, Part One

__

Artkel, Part One

The _CFC Insaaf _hung in the dark space above the planet Artkel. From the cramped conditions of the bridge Miranda could barely see out of the forward view-port. But what she could see chilled her blood.

Twelve ships, each a different size and make. She couldn't clearly see what, but even from this distance she could spot the distinctive profile of each spacecraft against the backdrop of the mining station.

It didn't even look like a station, not really. More like a city that had been built in space. Spires and exhaust ports jutted from its rounded surface like skyscrapers. Alteia sighed next to her, "It's never easy, is it?"

Miranda didn't respond, her eyes were locked onto the mining station. She placed her hand on the headrest of the pilot; a young man with short, cropped black hair, "Take us in. Spool up the weapons. Be ready for trouble.

He turned back to face her, "Ma'am, we're outnumbered..."

Miranda nodded slowly, "Then start praying as well."

The pilot opened his mouth to protest, but Alteia silenced him with a swiping movement of her hand, "Do as she says."

The pilot glanced between the two of them, then at his co-pilot. He gave a long, exhausted sigh as he turned to his controls and began to carry out his orders, "They ain't paying me enough for this shit."

Miranda stepped out of the cockpit and into the CIC. Technicians worked tirelessly at blue-backlit consoles all around her. Automated sentries patrolled the area, sweeping their guns across the long, narrow corridor to the command console in tight, robotic arcs. Alteia followed behind her.

Captain Athwart was waiting by the elevator. He snapped off a quick salute as Miranda approached, even as his eyes followed Alteia warily.

"Yes, Captain?" Miranda asked, reaching past him and hitting the button to summon the elevator.

"Thought you might want to see this, Operative," Athwart explained, drawing a data-slate from his coat's pocket, "News report handed down from The Illusive Man himself. Karnak's men struck again two days ago. They destroyed a human trade envoy headed into the Terminus systems."

Miranda's eyes narrowed as she read the data-slate, "Son of a bitch. Thank you, Captain."

She pushed past him and into the open elevator. Alteia gave an annoyed grunt as she did the same.

"Problem?" Miranda asked as the elevator doors closed.

"Cerberus ship. Cerberus personnel," Alteia shrugged, "Not my biggest fan-base."

Miranda nodded, "You don't have to worry about them. They're just a means to an end."

The ship rocked as something impacted against its hull.

"Here we go..."

"You think they'll be able to stop this bird?" Alteia asked, glancing uneasily upwards as the elevator descended.

Miranda shook her head, "No. Karnak's men aren't trained pilots, for the most part and their ships, while large, are little more than retro-fitted junk-heaps."

"Reassuring," Alteia murmured.

The elevator doors slid open with a hiss.

The armoury was bereft of personnel. The _Insaaf _was running a skeleton crew, most of whom had been assigned to gunnery roles for the time being. Miranda glanced around the armoury, walls lined with all manner of weapons and armour stared back at her.

"Nice," Alteia whispered, pleased.

"Say what you want about the people that work for it, but Cerberus supplies them well at least," Miranda smiled.

Alteia nodded appreciatively, running her hand along a rack of assault rifles, "Yeah. Think I might apply for a job interview after this."

Miranda stopped dead in her tracks, her hands were halfway to a armoured vest she'd been about to lift off its shelf, "Alteia, we need to talk."

The Asari women was busy checking the sights on a short barrelled carbine, "Yeah? About what?"

"About Cerberus and about you," Miranda's voice fell quiet as she stepped toward Alteia, her hands trembled slightly, "They're not just going to let you walk away from this. Cerberus is Cerberus. To them, you're just another deniable asset."

Alteia smiled ruefully, "You think I don't know that?"

Miranda stepped closer, her whole body trembling now, "It's not something to laugh about! A week from now, maybe two, you'll get a message. It'll tell you to go some co-ordinates on the ass-end of space for your payment and they'll be waiting for you!"

Alteia placed the gun she was holding aside and closed the distance between them. A hair's breadth was the only thing separating them now, "Well, little Ms. Lawson, this is conduct very unbecoming a Cerberus operative."

"Shut up," Miranda hissed, "I'm doing this because I thought we were friends. Because I thought we trusted one another. Because you don't deserve to be another body in a shallow, unmarked grave."

"Well thanks for that, Miranda," Alteia pressed forward, her arms grabbed Miranda and pulled her tight against her. Her lips pressed against the young human woman's. She broke the kiss off a second later, "But we could be dead in an hour. Hell, if these Cerberus cronies fuck this up we could be dead in a minute. We'll deal with that bridge when we burn it, I think."

Miranda gasped once, then pulled away, "I can't help you, Alteia, I can only warn you."

The Asari shrugged sadly, "Should have known. Cerberus through and through, even after all we've done together."

"It's not that," Miranda said, turning away, "I just can't leave this. It's a part of me, as sure as my DNA is."

Alteia nodded, then smiled again, "You know, for someone so perfect you're a terrible kisser."

Miranda laughed at that, then felt a single hot, wet tear roll down her cheek, "Well if we make it out of this alive, maybe you could teach me a thing or two."

Alteia smiled as she pulled on an reinforced combat suit, "I'd like that, Miranda."

The ship jerked once more and Miranda stumbled slightly with the motion, "We're going to be going in soon."

"I know," Alteia said, her face suddenly impassive, "You ready?"

Miranda slid on her armour's gloves and gave a slight, relaxed sigh as her personal shield activated, "As I'll ever be."

The insertion pods were a floor below them. They lined the starboard and port sides of the ship. Large, round openings that gaped like hungry mouths. The doors closed and locked behind them as they got in, sealing the atmosphere in the small craft.

A comm. device on the wall crackled to life, "Operative Lawson, this is Athwart. We've disabled two of the enemy ships and destroyed a third. We're bringing the ship around to get you a better shot now, but we're taking a pounding. You need to insert now, or damned soon or we're probably not going to make it out of here. A lucky shot took out our entire aft-gun system, we're blind on that front."

Miranda picked up the comm. device and responded, "I understand, Captain, we're leaving as we speak. Good luck."

She hung it back up on its rack.

"So how does this thing work, exactly?" Alteia asked, patting a hand against the metal wall of the pod.

"Well, it's kind of like an escape pod," Miranda explained stooping over a green console, "Except, we're firing it through the wall of Karnak's station. There's thrusters that'll activate once we get clear of the ship that'll take us in and a shaped charge on the nose will blow a hole in the wall of the station once we hit it. Then, we just extend the hooks, the outer shell of the pod will inflate and seal the breach in the stations wall and we exit through the nose."

"Through the nose?" Alteia asked, her eyebrows rising upward in disbelief.

"Yeah," Miranda turned back to face her, "Put your helmet on."

Alteia glanced down at the curved, round helmet that locked onto her armour, "Why?"

"Because if the explosive charge detonates too early, we'll be floating in space instead of walking about in the station," Miranda explained without looking back. She slipped her own helmet on and locked it into place with a click.

Alteia lifted her helmet up, but paused before putting it on, "How often does that happen exactly?"

"Statistically? About fifty percent of the time, depending on speed and angle of approach," Miranda's voice sounded crackled and distorted through her helmet's mic.

"Fifty percent?" Alteia murmured in disbelief.

"Depending on speed and angle of approach!"

"Let's just do this," Alteia sighed.

"Three," Miranda counted down, tapping in commands as fast as her fingers would move. The pod doors closed behind them.

"Two," There was a harsh mechanical screech as the pod disengaged from the _Insaaf_, Miranda and Alteia slowly floated into the air as the ships pulled away, it's gravity compensators no longer holding them down.

"One!" Miranda shouted, wrenching down hard on a large, red lever. The pod wrenched forward, it's thrusters exploding into life as it launched them towards the station. They could feel, but not hear, flak bursts explode all around them. The pod jostled and bumped as it rode the aftershocks of the explosions. Miranda was pressed flat against the pod wall by the force of the movement. Alteia was thrown against the floor.

Miranda counted down the seconds until impact inside her head. One, and the pod spun as it was hit by a starburst of light and energy. Two. She flew across the width of the pod with the force of it, slamming into the opposite wall. Three. The pod smashed against metal, grinding screeches echoing all around them as the pod slid along something and came to a halt.

"What the hell?" Miranda groaned as she pulled herself to her feet. The nose of the pod was still there. That was bad.

Alteia slowly stood up behind her, "I thought you said we'd either get spaced or go out through the nose."

"Yeah, well, this is new to me too," Miranda responded as she turned and pushed past the Asari, moving over to the pod's controls. She brought up an image of the outside. The outer camera on the port side had been burnt off. The starboard one however gave her a clear view of the pod's surroundings.

"What is it?" Alteia asked, drawing her rifle.

"We're in the goddamn cargo bay!" Miranda growled, "The bastards opened up the doors we were headed for! They let us right in."

"Alright," Alteia sighed, "So what's the good news?"

"They've got us surrounded," Miranda slammed a hand into the console and instantly regretted it as pain flared up her forearm, "Must be at least twenty of them and they've all got their guns trained on the door."

"The door?" Alteia turned to look back at Miranda, an inquisitive eye roaming across the inside of the pod.

"Yeah, the door," Miranda said, rage filling her voice, as she banged on a removable panel of metal, "In case the nose malfunctions, you hit the thrusters again and it'll burn everything trying to force you through whatever it is you're trying to crack. The charge still doesn't detonate? You go out through the door."

"Clever," Alteia nodded, a smile playing across her features.

"What?" Miranda asked, noticing the look on Alteia's face.

The Asari jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the nose of the pod, "There's got to be some way to activate that charge from in here, right?"

Miranda nodded, an understanding smile appearing on her face, "An Elcor sized flashbang and a breaching charge all rolled into one. Impressive, Alteia."

"Well, I'm no Cerberus lackey, but I do try."

"I think I can do it through this console," Miranda tapped away at the controls, "But it'll be loud. Be ready. We'll only get one shot."

Alteia raised her rifle and aimed it at the nose of the ship.

"Here we go," Miranda said, her attention focused on the console, "I'll reroute an electrical surge through the charge and set it off. Should work. In theory."

"Sounds promising," Alteia murmured as she tightened her grip on her gun.

"We got ten seconds," Miranda said, standing up from the console and taking up a position by Alteia's side, her own gun raised.

"Listen, Miranda, about before," Alteia began, but Miranda silenced her with a glare.

"Not now," She said quietly, her jaw tightened and then set still.

The charge exploded. Sound and light filled the pod as the nose of the craft was torn away under a burst of explosive force.

Alteia leapt out first, her gun blazing. Miranda followed.

Karnak's men had been arrayed in a rough semi-circle around the pod. There was no cover in the cargo bay, what had long ago been filled with mining materials and equipment was now sparse and empty. There was nowhere to go, nowhere for them to hide or duck away.

Time slowed, or at least appeared to, as Miranda opened fire. The Batarians were staggered and falling every which way, clutching their ears or covering their eyes. Two of them had been outright vaporised by the blast. Her rifle kicked back against her shoulder as she dropped to a knee and began firing. They cut them down with ruthless efficiency, their guns stuttering out rough, staccato bursts of gunfire as they swung back and forth.

Bodies jerked backwards as they were riddled with slugs. Alteia let out a whooping cry as she pumped bullets into the stunned warriors. Miranda swung her gun around in a wide arc. One of the Batarians had found his footing. He raised his rifle up to fire. His head snapped back, dark blood sprayed backwards as the bullet shattered his skull.

"Clear!" Miranda barked, sweeping her gun back around to cover Alteia's rear.

"Clear!" Alteia responded, her gun dropping slightly as she swung her head around to scan the room.

Miranda stowed her file on the mag-holster on the back of her armour and activated her omni-tool. A map of the station appeared before them.

"Here we are," Miranda said, pointing to a large open space near the bottom of the station, "Control centre's up here. Engines and other essentials are down here."

Alteia took a long look at the station, paying particular attention to the engine room, "I can deal with the engines. Couple of grenades on a time-delay, throw them down these vent hatches here. Should take them out."

"Those engines are the only thing holding this thing up, as soon as they go, the station will be dragged down into the atmosphere and enter freefall," Miranda tapped the control centre with her index finger, "I can reroute all power to the shields from here. This station wasn't designed for re-entry. But with those shields boosted it should be able to hold together."

Alteia nodded, "Sounds like a plan."

Miranda shut down her omni-tool with a flick of her wrist, "Keep your helmet on, I'll need to use the life-support systems power as well. When I do that, I'll vent all the oxygen too. That should take care of anyone left alive."

"Like Karnak," Alteia smiled.

"No. He'll likely be in the control centre, I'll deal with him," Miranda's lips tightened into a grim smile.

"Good luck," Alteia said with a nod.

"Of course," Miranda smiled, "You too."

Alteia's smile stayed on her face until her human companion had left.

* * *

The knock at the door almost made Kelly jump out of her skin. She set the data-slate aside with a heavy sigh and rubbed her eyes as she yawned. She'd lost track of time again. They'd probably be wondering why she hadn't shown up for dinner down in the cafeteria. She stood up behind her desk and quickly made her way to the door. The knocks were growing in intensity. She hit the door release button and waited as it slid open.

"Where the fuck is she?" Jack pushed past Kelly and stepped inside, her eyes glancing around the room in short, frenzied movements.

Kelly reeled back, jerking away from the crazed biotic, "Who?"

"The bitch. Where. Is. The. Bitch." Jack enunciated slowly, thrusting a hand that crackled with biotic energy underneath Kelly's nose.

Kelly stared down at the hand, confused, "Miranda? You're looking for Miranda?"

Jack nodded slowly and moved the hand closer to Kelly's face, "I know she isn't on vacation. I'm not as stupid as the rest of these Cerberus drones so you either tell me where she really is, or I get violent."

"Jack, calm down," Kelly inched backwards and felt her back press against the wall of her office, "She's just gone away for awhile. Nothing important."

Jack's lips turned upwards into an angry, snarling mess, "Fuck you and fuck your excuses. Where is she?"

"You really want to know?" Kelly asked quietly, leaning forward into the biotic field around Jack's hand. Her eyes glinted in the blue light.

"That's what I fucking asked for, isn't it?"

"On shore leave," Kelly laughed, looking past her, "Now I bet you can't crush my head quicker than Shepard can shoot you."

Jack's head cocked to the side, confused.

"Get away from her Jack," Shepard's voice spoke up from the doorway. There was the sound of a pistol being racked and then silence except for the crackling biotic energy in Jack's right hand.

Then that disappeared too, "Fine. Fuck this shit. She's lying, Shepard. It's their way."

Shepard lowered the pistol as Jack left and then stepped inside, closing the office door behind her, "Kelly, are you alright?"

"Of course, Commander," Kelly said, fiddling with her collar, "Just a little shaken."

"I'm sorry about that," Shepard said, holstering her gun.

"Not your fault, Commander."

"She's not wrong, is she Kelly?" Shepard said, looking up and transfixing Kelly with her gaze.

"Commander?"

"She's not wrong about where Miranda is, is she Kelly?" Shepard asked again, closing the distance between them.

"What do you mean, Commander?" Kelly asked, stepping to the side.

"I looked up Artkel," Shepard said, pulling a data-slate free from her pocket, "It's a wasteland. Not a vacation spot. Miranda and Samara are on some sort of mission, aren't they Kelly?"

Kelly looked away, her mouth quivered as she answered, "Yes."

"You lied to me," Shepard said slowly. She threw the data-slate aside. It smashed against the wall, "You've helped endanger Miranda and Samara's lives Kelly. I trusted you in your capacity as our psychological consultant and not only have you betrayed that trust you've endangered my crew. Our crew. Why?"

Kelly looked up into the Commander's eyes. For a second she could have sworn they flared a deep, dark red, "Because Miranda asked me to. Because I thought it was important."

"You're on lockdown," Shepard said quietly, steadily, "You stay in this room until I tell you otherwise."

Kelly nodded slowly, "Commander, I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am, Kelly," Shepard responded, forcing open the door and stepping outside.

Kelly slumped behind the desk, her shoulders rising and falling steadily with the soft cadence of her sobs. She rubbed a hand over her face and sighed heavily. She looked down. The data-pad on her table stared forlornly back at her. She picked it up and continued reading.

* * *

Gunfire shattered the windows all around her. She dropped to a knee and continued firing. Two Batarians collapsed like puppets with their strings cut as Miranda's rifle barked and stuttered. The Control centre was directly above her. But the only way up was the stairs at the other end of the hallway. Karnak's men had dug in hard, setting up rockets and sentry turrets at the other end. There was no cover down where she was, just a long series of windows lining each side of the hallway.

She pressed her back against the nearest wall she could find and poured rounds down the corridor. Figures ducked and weaved to each side as they tried to find something to hide behind; the lack of cover worked both ways, Miranda was exposed, but so were they.

She tore a small, disk-shaped grenade free from her webbing and hurled it over-arm. It landed amongst the panicked soldiers and detonated with a sharp bang. Glass once again flew in every direction, but now there was blood and body parts mixed in too.

The turrets hadn't spotted her yet, she was too far outside their range. They stood at the bottom of the staircase, sweeping their guns back and forth across the hallway. Miranda raised her omni-tool and sent a burst of blue light down the hallway. It struck one of the turrets on the side and blew it into pieces. The second turret swung around to locate her and put a burst from her rifle into its side. It exploded a second later, metal fragments showering the hallway as its ammunition stores ignited.

Miranda dove forward, just in time. A shard of jagged steel sliced open her leg and left a long, bloody slash down her thigh. A second slammed into her rifle and knocked it from her hand, sending flying away. She drew her pistol with a pained grunt. No time to waste, and the side-arm would kill Karnak just as easily.

She leapt up the stairs, stopping briefly to put another round into a twitching body. An explosion sounded far below. Alteia was hard at work. She brought her gun up and stepped neatly up the stairs. All emotion, all concern seemed to float away and be replaced by cold, machine-like precision and purpose. There was nothing else, nothing but the gun in her hand and the obstacles in her way.

A clawed foot swung out from the side of her vision and caught her in the chest. She fell backwards, crashing back down the stairs. She tucked her body into as round a shape as she could as fell. Her gun-hand smacked into the edge of one of the steps and her pistol bounced away, rattling off across the floor. Miranda rolled to her feet and stood slowly, staggering slightly on her wounded leg.

Arctys stood at the top of the stairs, his hands rested on his belt, "You're going to die here, human."

He raised a single hand and gave a satisfied grin as biotic energy swirled and formed around it.

Miranda smiled grimly, "A Turian biotic, this should be fun. I've never killed one of those before."

"You never will, human," Arctys retorted and flung his arm forward.

Miranda threw herself to the right as the ball of biotic energy crashed into the ground. It exploded and she rode the shockwave of energy through the air, she landed cat-like, on all fours. Her own hand came up and thrust forward, Arctys ducked under the biotic surge as he leapt down the stairs, charging right at Miranda. Miranda smacked him aside with a rush of biotic power. He slammed against the wall and fell there, crumpled in a heap. She stepped toward him, pulling her knife free from its scabbard on her thigh. She twirled it around in her hand, positioning it for a downward stab.

Arctys lunged into action, tearing free his own knife from its place on his chest, "Die!"

She turned the blade aside with her own, parrying it away an inch from slicing into her chest. She lashed out, her knife opened a ragged cut in the Turian's jaw. He roared in pain and slammed a biotically-charged fist into her chest. Two of her ribs cracked as she was lifted into the air and thrown backwards. Her knife slipped from her fingers as she sailed backwards through the air. Her back slammed into the wall and she took in a sharp, pained gasp of air as she landed.

Arctys was on her, lightning fast, his hand closed around her throat and lifted her into the air with ease. His other hand drew back, the knife flashed as it stabbed at her side. She brought her legs up, hard, into his chest. He staggered back, choking and gasping for air. She dropped to the ground, landing uneasily on her wounded leg.

She swung a fist at Arctys' head and gave a grunt as it connected. The Turian staggered back, she chased him, swinging again and again. He reeled back, stunned by the blows. She drew back and threw her whole weight behind the next punch. It shattered his jaw. The next one she added a burst of biotic energy to it and caved in his flat, bridged nose. His head gave a wet crunch as Miranda drove the hardened bones in his face back into his skull.

She gasped for air, winded. He simply gave an empty sigh as he collapsed backwards against the wall. Dead.

She swung around, found her pistol and lifted with a miniature biotic field. Karnak was waiting.

She found him alone in the control centre. His back was too her. His attention was filled by a bright yellow console.

"Have you satisfied your bloodlust yet?" He asked without turning.

Miranda kept her gun aimed at his back, "Just one more left on my list, Karnak."

He turned around to face her and for a second Miranda thought she could see a pained expression on her face, "I knew you would come to kill me. But I still do not know why, do you?"

Miranda shook her head slowly, "You're a murderer. You've earned this."

Karnak nodded, "Yes. A murderer. But it starts and ends at the same place."

"Enough riddles," Miranda stepped forward slowly, her eyes scanning the room for ambushes or traps.

"I became a killer because of your species aggression," Karnak said slowly, sitting down in one of the chairs by the console he'd been looking at when she'd entered, "If you kill me, you only perpetrate the cycle. Perhaps you will, perhaps you won't. But always know that putting a bullet in my brain will make you responsible for the lives that are lost as a result."

"I came for justice, not metaphysical nonsense," Miranda hissed, tightening her grip on her gun. Her hand was beginning to tremble. Wether with the pain of her wounds or something else she wasn't sure.

"So did I, originally."

"This isn't justice you're propagating," Miranda hissed, the gun trembling in her shaking hand, "It's revenge. Petty, misdirected revenge."

Karnak threw his arms wide, "What is the difference, Ms. Lawson?"

"Motive," Miranda spat, her finger tightening on the trigger.

"And what would you claim is the motive of this?" Karnak asked softly, gesturing to the gun in her hand, "Justice? Or revenge?"

Miranda blinked once.

"Let's find out," She whispered, her finger tensing on the trigger.

She fired.

Alteia's voice burst over her earpiece as Karnak slumped to the ground, "Is it done? Are we ready?"

Miranda gave a trembling sigh and keyed her earpiece, "Yes. It's done. Blow the engines, I'm at the control room."

"On it. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Kelly set the data-pad aside with a shaking hand.

Whatever Miranda was about to walk into on Artkel, she hoped it would be okay.

But more than anything, she hoped that Shepard would get them there soon.


	9. Artkel, Part Two

_Artkel, Part Two_

The ship cut its sub-light engines and coasted to a gentle stop above Artkel. The ride down through atmosphere had been bumpy, but not difficult in the Kodiak shuttle. It was what it was designed for after all. Miranda freed herself from the piloting chair's harness and moved into the back of the shuttle.

Samara stayed seated at the front, her hands dancing across the computer screens arrayed before her, "There are readings on the planet. Almost directly below us."

Miranda grunted her confirmation, "That's right. This is the place."

Samara turned back to look at her, "Here?"

"Well," Miranda shrugged as she pulled a rifle free from the gun-rack in the back, "Below us, technically. It's where Karnak's station fell. There's a crater nearly a kilometre wide. It's littered with the wreckage."

Samara unhooked herself and then stood slowly, stretching her limbs, "We'd best prepare ourselves."

"I'm ready," Miranda nodded, "I'm always ready."

Samara shook her head slowly, "An unprepared mind is an unsharpened blade."

"Good thing I don't intend to challenge anyone to a duel then," Miranda smiled.

"What is waiting for us down there?" Samara asked, sliding a pistol free from the gun-rack and holstering it against the small of her back.

"If we're lucky, an old friend," Miranda said pointedly, ejecting the thermal clip from the rifle and sliding in a fresh one.

"And if we are not?" Samara asked expectantly.

"Trouble."

"Then we'd best prepare," Samara retorted quietly.

Miranda simply sighed and attached the rifle to her back.

Behind them, in the cockpit, a warning sound blared.

"Missile lock!" Miranda yelled, diving back into the pilot's seat and wrenching the shuttle hard to the side.

A streak of smoke and fire cut across the windscreen and exploded above them. The shuttle was thrown hard to the right with the force of the explosion. Thankfully the shuttles shields held. Two more klaxons sounded and Miranda gritted her teeth as she activated the shuttles countermeasures.

"Looks like a nest of AA-turrets set up around the crater," Miranda hissed through her clenched teeth, "Probably mobile or portable ones, that'd explain why they only pinged us now."

Samara slid down to her knees and closed her eyes in concentration. A single teardrop of sweat dripped steadily down from her forehead.

Two rockets lanced their way through the air towards the shuttle, Miranda took the aircraft into a quick, tight roll that sent them under her. They turned and tracked her movement, chasing the shuttle with unerring accuracy.

A stream of bright flares exploded from the back of the shuttle. One of the missiles exploded with them. The other kept coming, intent of finding its prey. A third rocket joined the fray, arcing upwards from the ground far below the, fuel exhaust spitting and streaming from its rear.

The rocket chasing them slammed into the back of the shuttle. Fire exploded along its length and engulfed it as its shields failed. Another warning bell joined the chorus of screeching alarms that sounded in the cockpit.

"Shit!" Miranda cursed as the third rocket arced towards them, "Engines are gone, we're going in!"

The shuttle spun as it died, fires arcing from its destroyed engines as it twirled downward toward the ground.

Miranda realized what was about to happen, but was powerless to stop it. The rocket shot straight through the windshield and vaporised the shuttle in the blink of an eye. The falling aircraft exploded into nothingness as a great ball of smoke and fire replaced it in the sky.

Samara's hands trembled as the energy they held disappeared, "I cannot keep this up."

The biotic shield that she had conjured around them, saving both their lives a split second before the shuttle's disintegration, vanished as the Justicar fell into unconsciousness. The two women hung in the air for a second, then plummeted downward toward the ground far below.

Far below Miranda could see the crater. She twisted in the air and caught Samara a second before the howling winds and air whipped the Asari away. Her own biotics kicked in. She'd learnt long ago that flying using biotic power was difficult for an Asari and near impossible for a human. So instead, she simply fell, allowing a whisper thin biotic field to appear underneath her and ride the air current to the earth far below.

A split-second before she touched down she intensified the field. It was like falling into a swimming pool filled with jelly. She rolled and crashed down the slope of the sand dune she'd steered the two of them toward and landed in a heap at the bottom. Not the most impressive landing, but it was better than splattering against the countryside, or even worse, landing in the centre of the crater.

The biotic shield dissipated and she let out a long, relaxed sigh. Darkness began to creep into the edge of her vision. Exhaustion closed her eyes a moment later.

* * *

Shepard stood just behind Joker's chair. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her face set and serious, "Scan the planet as soon as you bring us in, Joker. Find their shuttle."

"Aye aye, ma'am," Was the pilot's only response as he tapped in commands. He understood Shepard's moods and behaviours better than any of them, and right know that intuition was telling him to shut up and do his job.

Shepard turned to face the large figure behind her, "Grunt."

"Shepard," The Krogan gave a slight nod.

"Get down to the hangar, prepare the shuttle, you're going in with me," Shepard pushed past the large alien and headed toward the CIC. Jacob stood at attention beside it.

"Get Chakwas," Shepard ordered him, "Tell her to be ready, we could be bringing back casualties on this one."

Jacob nodded, "Aye aye, ma'am."

"Jacob?" Shepard called after him. The Cerberus soldier turned back to face her, "Miranda's going to be fine."

"I know, Shepard."

* * *

She stirred. Samara's face stared back down at her.

"I thought you weren't going to wake," The Asari said, concern edging her voice.

Miranda rolled her head around and cracked her neck, "Why? How bad are my injuries?"

"There are none," Samara said, gently pulling the human woman up into a sitting position, "So I thought you would be too exhausted to do anything. I was preparing to leave and attack the crater when you began to speak."

"I don't sleep-talk," Miranda said pointedly, standing up.

Samara said nothing, she simply stared at the woman with a resigned look.

"What did I say?" Miranda sighed, drawing her rifle.

"Private things."

"Fine," Miranda said, turning away, "You've been to the crater then?"

"Yes. Twice now," Samara nodded, stepping up next to her.

"What's it like down there?"

"Not good," Samara took in a deep, slow breath of air, "You were right about to expect. There are a lot of soldiers down there. At least thirty, possibly more. The wreckage offers good cover."

Miranda nodded slowly, thoughtfully, "Anything else?"

"Yes. An Asari woman in the centre of the wreckage, she is tied to a spar of metal there, a captive," Samara paused, hesitantly before continuing, "From her appearance, I would guess she is the old friend you told me of."

Miranda nodded, "Yes. I thought as much. Alteia wouldn't betray me willingly. At least, I thought we'd parted on better terms than that. You didn't see a Turian down there, did you?"

Samara nodded cautiously, it was the only time Miranda had ever seen her this way, "Yes."

Miranda sighed, "Come on then, let's figure this out."

"As you wish," Samara responded.

The walk to the crater took only a little over ten minutes. As they walked, Miranda surveyed the landscape as they walked. Artkel had once been a garden world, long ago, but the Batarian mining effort and the station's crash landing had wiped the immediate land clear of all foliage. Salt-rock and sand stretched as far as the eye could see.

It looked like hell. It smelled worse. The acrid stench of sulphur filled the air. Behind her she could hear Samara experimentally sniffing the air. The edge of the crater rose up before them, like the lip of some grand, long-dormant volcano.

They lay down at the top of the steep, upward curve. Miranda drew a pair of binoculars from her belt and peered downward through them.

The wreckage of the station drove a cold wedge into her heart. She could almost piece together the various parts of the station she'd seen on her approach all those years ago. Her eye wandered across the wreckage-filled crater. It was abuzz with activity. Soldiers in yellow armour scurried to and fro as they prepared weapons and piled together defences.

On the other side of the crater a long line of sand-hoppers, small and agile vehicles designed to traverse dangerous terrain quickly, sat around the lip of the crater. A series of cables and tow-lines stretched upward towards them, explaining how the soldiers got down into the crater and how they planned to get out.

"They look like they're digging in for a war," Miranda murmured.

"Then they must know we're coming," Samara responded flatly.

Miranda smiled, but didn't say anything. Her binoculars panned over the crater and settled on the lone figure in the middle. They'd hit her, that much was clear. The blue-ish blood that stained the front of her tunic told Miranda that much at least. But she was alive, the gentle gasping motions of her mouth and the flickering of her eyes indicated that.

"Alteia," Miranda said softly. Her grip tightened on the binoculars.

Samara shifted her weight next to her, "And the Turian?"

"I can't see him," Miranda said quietly, swinging the binoculars around.

Samara nodded and slowly rose up onto one knee, "How do you want to proceed?"

Miranda frowned as she surveyed the crater, "We don't have a lot of options. But we need to get Alteia out of there at the very least."

"I can carve a path toward her," Samara nodded confidently, "If you can distract them."

Miranda shook her head slowly, "No, we go down there together. This place is a maze of wreckage, they know the area and they know it well. If we split up, it'll just make it easier for them to flank us and cut us down."

Samara bowed her head slightly, "You are correct."

"Reassuring."

"Well," Miranda said, clipping the binoculars back onto her belt, "Let's go."

There were no more words between them. No communication as they descended the slope of the crater. They slid down, using their hands and feet to slow their fall as they approached the bottom. Gunfire kicked up all around them, picking up dirt and sand and throwing it up into the air. They arrived at the bottom unharmed. A shot creased Miranda's temple and she flinched away instinctively, ducking into cover behind a large, twisted piece of steel that had been embedded in the sand years ago.

She thrust the barrel of her gun out over the top of her cover and squeezed the trigger. The shots went wild, smacking against steel, sand and shields, but they got the soldiers to duck. Which was all Samara needed. The Asari hurled herself over the steel wall between them and the soldiers, propelling herself with a biotic field. She smashed into one awestruck trooper and sent him flying through a metal wall. Another fired at her, the shots pinged harmlessly off the field that surrounded her. She raised her gun and put a hole through the trooper's chest without a second thought.

Behind her Miranda watched, simultaneously stunned and horrified as Samara set about decimating the soldiers that faced them. Bullets swung in from every direction, smacking off the metal that littered the area and bouncing off Samara's shields as the Justicar did what she did best. Snapping bones with biotically charged blows and cutting soldiers down with quick, brutal bursts of gunfire.

Miranda kept up as best as she could as they pushed their way towards Alteia. There was far more than thirty soldiers down in the crater, but it hardly seemed to matter anymore. Samara was a whirlwind of destruction. Centuries of combat experience drove her hand as she led the way. Any that survived her biotic powers and weapon prowess were dispatched by Miranda, her rifle blazing as she followed in the Asari's wake.

They found the Turian in the centre of the crater. He held a long, slender pistol in one hand. The barrel was pressed to Alteia's temple. The resemblance was unmistakeable. But not quite perfect.

Miranda levelled her rifle and pointed it at the Turian's head. The soldier on either side of him raised their own rifles to point at the two attackers.

"You're not him," Miranda spat, "You're not Arctys."

The Turian gave a short, dry laugh, "Of course not, Lawson. You killed him, remember?"

Miranda sighed as she slowly let the barrel of her gun drop. Beside her Samara did the same.

"A son," Miranda shook her head ruefully, "I should have known."

The Turian nodded slowly, "So clever. Yes, I am Anthys, son of Arctys."

"You'll die the same way," Miranda said steadily, softly.

"Murdered by the broken spear-point of a group of racists?" Anthys laughed again, "I think not."

"I'm not with them anymore," Miranda tossed her rifle down onto the ground and stepped forward, "Anyway, I was referring more to me caving in your face while you screamed for mercy, like he did."

Anthys grip tightened on the pistol, "My father didn't beg! He was the Pride of Palaven! A fierce soldier the likes of which the galaxy had never seen!"

Miranda allowed a small smile to cross her features, "Until I came along."

Beside her Samara tensed.

"Drop it!" One of the soldier's hissed. Samara reluctantly let the rifle drop from her hands.

Miranda stepped closer again, "The Pride of Palaven? That's a pretty hefty title for someone who died so quickly."

Anthys whirled the pistol around and pointed it directly at Miranda's head, "He was a soldier, to the end! Everything he did was for the Turian! But then you're precious Alliance got word that he was being experimented on as part of the enhanced soldier program and they had it shut down! He was disgraced, cast out!"

Miranda sighed theatrically, "And so he became a terrorist."

"A freedom fighter," Anthys hissed and stepped forward, the cold barrel of his gun pressing against Miranda's cheek, "Free from the shackles of the council and their human lapdogs. A revolutionary."

Miranda gave a short, dark laugh, "Who bit off more than he could chew."

"Shut it!" Anthys pressed the barrel deeper into her face, "You caused this, all of it!"

There was an impossibly loud boom-crack. Like that of a gunshot. Miranda flinched instinctively. Anthys looked up. The sky darkened, a shadow consumed them. Far above in the sky, the outline of a star-ship blinked into existence.

Miranda smiled. The Normandy was here. Not what she'd planned, or what she'd expected. But it was a welcome reprieve.

She sprung into action, her hand closed around Anthys wrist. He wore two long, round bracers. It would be impossible to break the bones there. Instead, she pressed her palm against the hand that held the gun to her head and whispered a single word.

"Houdini."

What happened next, happened _very_ fast.

The charge embedded in Miranda's palm exploded. It blew Anthys' hand clean off. The Turian fell backwards, screaming. Blue blood poured out onto the sand. Samara lunged forward and slammed the soldier closest to her to the ground with a wave of energy. The one on the other side of Alteia turned, only to be sent flying by another burst of biotic power.

Anthys kicked out with one of his clawed feet as he landed on his back. The raptor-like limb caught Miranda in the jaw and opened a bloody gash along her chin. She grunted in pain as she staggered back. The Turian clambered to his feet and staggered away, sprinting for the edge of the crater.

"He's headed for the vehicles!" Samara yelled, her hands struggling to work the knots that tied Alteia to the post.

Miranda rolled to her feet, clutching Anthys' pistol in her hands. She brought the gun up and drew a bead on the back of the Turian's bobbing head.

"Shoot!" Samara hissed.

Time slowed. Her heart pounded in her ears. Blood rushed through every limb, filling her body with feeling as her finger tensed on the trigger. She had to finish it. Had to end this nightmarish cycle that had brought them here. She couldn't ever let him escape.

The barrel of her pistol dropped.

Then she fired. The shot blew out Anthys knee and sent him crashing to the ground with a screeching whine. Miranda let out a long, low breath of air as she dropped the pistol. Samara stepped up beside her and stared pointedly at Anthys fallen, mewling form. She was supporting Alteia's unconscious body on her shoulder, "Why not kill him?"

Miranda allowed a small smile to crease her features, "Because I don't have to, not anymore."

She let out a relieved sigh and sat down on the ground.

They waited like that, together, until the shuttle from the Normandy arrived.

* * *

"Your friend is lucky to be alive," Shepard said at last.

"She's tougher than she looks," Miranda replied.

Shepard snorted, then smiled despite herself, "We'll drop off Anthys at the nearest Turian colony. They should have a prison that will suit him well there."

Miranda nodded, "It's all he deserves."

Shepard sighed, "You're good Miranda, I'll give you that. But that stunt endangered the lives of both you and Samara. I can't let you stay as the XO of this ship if you're going to betray my trust like that."

"I understand, Commander," Miranda said softly, "And I take full responsibility."

"That's good, because I doubt I could reprimand Samara even if I wanted to," Shepard laughed, "I'm relieved you're all okay, however, and I understand why you felt you had to do what you did. But I can't let it go unpunished. As of right now you're relieved of your duties as executive officer until I feel you're fit to take them up again. Jacob will take over in the mean time."

"Good choice," Miranda nodded, a sad smile appearing on her face.

"You're okay with this?" Shepard asked, surprised.

"Not quite," Miranda shook her head, "But I'll deal with it."

"Good," Shepard nodded, "I need you in top condition. I've got an assignment for you and your friend, Alteia. I need you both to go to Hariltonia on a diplomatic mission."

"Hariltonia?" Miranda gave Shepard a quizzical look, "That's a resort planet..."

"Yes, I suppose it is," Shepard smiled thinly, "I thought you might want to see what one looks like, seeing as you so grossly misidentified Artkel as one."

Miranda gave a sly smile, "Thank you, Shepard."

"Get a good night's sleep for once, Miranda," Shepard ushered her gently to the door, "That's an order."

* * *

She clasped the Asari's hand with her own, "You okay?"

"Long time, Lawson," Alteia croaked, her throat dry.

"Yeah, long time," Miranda smiled, not quite sure what to say.

"It finished? You finish it?" Alteia looked at her sternly through one blackened eye.

She nodded, "Of course."

"Guess I owe you one now," Alteia gave a forlorn half-smile.

"You're damn right you do," Miranda smiled then stood slowly, "Now get some rest."

Alteia's face turned pensive as she stared down at her feet, "You ever think about the stuff we did together. The missions?"

"Of course," Miranda bent down and placed a gentle kiss on the Asari's bloodied cheek.

"You ever have nightmares?" Alteia asked, her voice breaking slightly.

Miranda stopped at the door and turned back, "Not anymore."

Alteia laughed, "You were always a fucking terrible liar, Miranda."

And then, with a slight, pained smile, she was gone.

* * *

Kelly rubbed the back of her neck as she finished her report, "All in a day's work."

She leaned back in her chair and gave a breathy, contented sigh as she stared up at the ceiling.

She stood, walked to the door of her office, and with one last look backwards at the data-slate on her desk, flicked off the lights and headed out to see the rest of the crew.

_The End._


	10. Hariltonia

_Hariltonia;_

_Epilogue_

The twin red suns of Hariltonia shone down on her. The sand of the beach felt soft and warm between her toes.

Alteia lay sleeping a few metres away. She allowed herself a faint smile at that; she'd earned it.

She couldn't bear to sleep herself, something about the old nightmares kept her from closing her eyes and setting her head down. She was busy in thought, like she always was when not confronted with an immediate problem. Shepard had been right and in his own way, so had Karnak. There was always going to be another target, always going to be another person who'd lost something and decided to take it out on humanity.

She raised her hand to the sun and blocked the light out.

Cerberus was a distant memory now, for the life of her she could barely even remember the Illusive man's face. Or her father's. A part of her mind far in the back wondered idly what Oriana would be doing right now. Maybe she'd go find out. After all, she had a whole week to waste. She'd ask Alteia along when she woke. Yes, that sounded good.

It was all so unfamiliar to her, the doldrum and routine of simply being with another person in day to day life. But it was refreshing too, like a cold splash of water.

She couldn't work for the Alliance. Or wouldn't, she wasn't truly sure. But Shepard had been onto something. There were a myriad of different opportunities out there for someone like her. She thought about it for a second, after all, she still had contacts almost everywhere.

She looked down at Alteia's sleeping form and smiled. But darkly this time. Cerberus were still out there, still a threat.

Maybe that would do for a first job. After all, she owed the Illusive Man a visit.

But still, whatever it was, wherever she'd be, it could wait.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

She could hear gunshots, screams, even now. But they sounded faraway, like something underwater crying out. Not the harsh screeches that had plagued her nights for so long.

She let one last smile pass over her features, and slept like that for a long time.


End file.
